Paris Secrets
by Beathas
Summary: When an accident leaves Tom Paris amnesiac his deepest secrets start to come out. Will he ever be able to trust a crew that has never trusted him?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter one**

"**I **don't understand, Tom." Ensign Harry Kim said as he escorted his recently freed friend towards the Mess Hall. "Why can't you just turn away when someone says something stupid?"

Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris grinned cheekily at his younger friend before exhibiting a puzzled look. "What good would turning away do?" He inquired airily. Kim had to take a deep breath, glaring at the older man with his usual mixed frustration and confusion. Paris's three-day confinement to quarters had just ended that morning after he and three others were found brawling in the fitness rooms.

"You wouldn't get in a fight and get in trouble!" Kim blurted out. Tom's eyes danced with amusement as he attempted a Vulcan eyebrow raise. The dark haired ensign sighed, wondering why he was trying to reveal Tom's predilection for trouble to the owner of this curse. Tom enjoyed causing trouble, or at least he refused to run from trouble.

This should not have been a problem aboard ship, but Voyager's situation was unique. Tom Paris's position about the sleek Intrepid- class ship was even stranger. Neither Starfleet nor Maquis, Paris had worked for both groups, one as an, apparently, spoiled brat who ruined his chances, the other as a mercenary pilot who, again apparently, had sold the freedom fighters out. Not even two years and many heroics could alleviate all doubters and grudges. The fact that Tom courted neither faction had helped blur the lines between the two, but had done nothing for the pilot's own place on the ship.

Tom grinned at his friend and entered the Mess Hall with the cool mask of mockery in place on his handsome face. Harry was still far too green. He had no idea of the truth of the trouble of which he was trying to warn his experienced friend. Whether or not Tom had thrown a punch or three in the last brawl, which he freely admitted to, the pilot would have ended up with the same punishment. Security had only walked in after Tom was on the floor under the three men and since it was his word against theirs, there being no witnesses, Tom had omitted explaining that his own blows had been in self-defense, with the object to escape the punches and kicks of the others. Turning his back to trouble would only have resulted in more bodily damage _and still _sharing his attackers' punishment.

The pilot only laughed to himself about the injustice of his multiple punishments for similar incidents. He had courted his reputation and found his dues for his bad boy persona amusing more than distressing. After all, not a soul aboard Voyager knew the truth about him at his own choice. They saw only the public history that damned him, and did not know anything about the true events behind that past.

All eyes in the Mess Hall glanced curiously at him, wondering if the fourth time would be the charm that broke the mocking, brazen pilot. He saluted them all with a cocky twist of his head and accepted Neelix's latest, questionable concoction from the Talaxian with a wry grin and a wink that the little cook did not understand.

B'lanna Torres had saved the usual breakfast table for her friends. She was more aware of the physical sides to Tom's unpopularity and had made it clear among her own staff that he was to be left alone. Perhaps she suspected there was more than she knew, but was satisfied that Paris never seemed hurt, nor inclined to make an issue out of the small annoyances that dogged his every step. Her own distaste and distrust for the pilot had changed after his actions during their shared imprisonment and enslavement at the hands of the Viddians.

**··············**

Captain Kathryn Janeway cast a roguish look at her First Officer as she stood up from her seat and prepared to follow him into the briefing room. He merely gave his customary small smirk and led the way into the room as Tuvok took his seat within and the other three officers entered with smiles on their faces. The Captain glanced over each of their faces curiously, wondering how Tom was after his three-day confinement to quarters while off duty. He looked no different from usual, sardonic smirk on his face as he took his seat, ice-cold blue eyes filled with his usual look of easy awareness.

"Good Morning everyone. I trust you have completed filing your reports. Let's get started. Commander Chakotay will you start us?"

The big officer smiled at her and glanced down the table as he lifted the first of his several PADDS. He caught the mocking blue eyes of the Helmsman and frowned. Janeway followed suite. She respected her First Officer but where Tom Paris was concerned, the Commander was less than objective.

As her bridge officers gave their reports Tuvok brought forth the incident that had caused Tom's incarceration to his quarters. The Helmsman's lips twisted in a mirthless grin when Tuvok broached the subject. His eyes grew cooler, if possible, and for a moment it was difficult to believe the man in front of her seemed to find humor even in his deprecation.

Then the moment passed and she found knowing amusement twinkling in his face.

Since no one was sure why the four men had decided to fight it out, rumors ran rife. Most consisted of Tom Paris getting drunk and attacking the other three, though a good portion also suggested the other three were the tipsy ones and that Paris had actually mouthed off about their social skills, prior to the brawl. Who threw the first punch was also widely discussed, a high percentage, including the command team, was inclined to believe it was Paris.

This was discussed ship wide until another crewmember found the perils of the Delta Quadrant too much to bear and caused trouble. As Paris was on the bridge, flying the ship at the time, his indiscretions were forgotten.

**··············**

"Whoa!" Paris cried his voice both surprised and delighted as the ship gave a sort of hop and all of their stomachs dropped.

"Report." Janeway cried.

For the space of two seconds, she heard the rapid beeping of her officers' consoles as they scrambled to discover the cause of the jolt. Then Paris laughed. "We've found our way into a subspace current!" He glanced over his shoulder, eyes alight with excitement.

He leaned back for a moment, hands to his sides. "We're flying along without any propulsion."

"Where does the current lead?" Janeway glared at her carefree pilot and turned to demand of the Ops station.

"It's heading straight for about 80 light years before it veers to the port. Time to current's bend about 8 minutes." Kim announced.

"Eight minutes!" Janeway's eyes lit up. "Ride it for all it's worth, Mr. Paris."

"Aye Ma'am." His eyes were still twinkling as his hands danced across the con station and the sway of this ship stilled.

"I've cut the engines; prepare to jump to warp five." Tom called.

"Warp five?" Kim's young voice was surprised.

"If we leap out of the current too slowly we'll be swept along for a bit longer than we want." Janeway explained as Tom leaned forward with his delight.

A few minutes later Janeway leaned over the display between her and Chakatoy, her forehead nearly touching her First Officers as he also inclined to one side to see the ship's course. The countdown to the plunge out of the current was down to ten seconds before they both leaned back to brace themselves. In front of them, Tom still needed to brace himself, his hands stilled across the final controls he would need. No one spoke, prepared for a terrific jolt as they stormed the current's walls.

The countdown reached zero and there was a slight sway to the ship. Janeway glanced at the display in alarm, but they had escaped the current and had cut about a month off their journey. A whoop of delight went up from all but Tuvok and the grinning pilot, who rolled his eyes roguishly and winked broadly at an excited little crewwoman manning the bridge engineering station. She laughed, for despite her petite stature, she was well accustomed to all the pilots' ways and was one of the few former Maquis who could accept Paris' overt flirting without resentment.

Once out of the current they had paused for several hours to allow Lt Torres to make sure the jump out of the current, no matter how smooth it felt, had not damaged the ship and to allow the Ship's sensors to do several long-range scans to map their position. The conn stood empty while Tom hovered near Ensign Kim's station, chatting inanely as he assisted his friend in correlating the massive amounts of incoming data. Two years had taught Janeway that Tom's chatter concealed his actual work and she let the chatter go on. His friend always bolstered Kim's confidence.

"There's an M-class planet with indications of vegetation and no signs of sentient life, such as we can tell, of course, about a parsec away." Paris announced after the scans finished and the feisty Chief Engineer had allowed that he had done no damage to her ship in his fancy flying.

"Followed by a rather unique expanse of nebula and at least four rogue planets as far as we can tell, all small and dead." Kim scowled at the odd readings. Rogue planets were very rare and to find four in so close an area, relatively speaking, was unheard of.

"We shall have to do a full sweep as we pass through this area. See what might be drawing the rogues." Janeway said, her scientific curiosity pricked.

The Alpha shift was ending and she glanced to where Ensign Baytart was taking the conn from Paris, the two pilots discussing the conn in their unique lingo. It had taken Tom Paris only two weeks to gain the professional respect of his department, though with only ten crewmembers it was the smallest department on board, excluding the badly staffed Sick Bay. It had taken him months to gain their friendship, but he had eventually won over even the two Maquis who served under his capable lead.

"Keep an eye on the gravitational pull. Something has to be pulling those rogue planets to this area. There is nothing like a dark spot and Voyager seems unencumbered by any pull now, but it's an odd part of space." Tom's voice was low, but as he had the longest shift change report it fell into the sudden silence that followed the departure of all but Janeway and himself.

"Aye Lt. I'll do that." Baytart glanced over the logs. "What about this pull? It reads more like a current."

"I know. It's tied to Ops, so they can help keep an eye on it. It could be a smaller current. If you hit one, cut warp at once! You can navigate with impulse just fine."

"You sure you don't want a second shift?" Baytart chuckled.

"Oh, you'll be fine." Tom slapped his second on the shoulder and both men shared a knowing look. Janeway smiled, aware that Tom's flying had once again astounded them. Currents as quick and long as the one they had flown that day were as rare as Rogue planets, though there were many smaller ones. The Captain knew enough of piloting to be aware that riding one so big was like sailing through a white rapid in a river. Tom had loved every minute of his flying that day.

"Well done, Tom." She told him as they entered the turbo lift together. "I think that might be another one for the record books."

"Nope. I'd done it before in tandem with Land… I mean a friend of mine." He grinned widely. As she let his curious desire not to name his friend go, she was struck with how happy he looked. It was rare to see unadulterated joy in his face. Something she did not understand usually tempered his pleasure.

She wished she could see his joy more often. Without his sardonic, secretive mask in place, he could have been thought as young as his good friend, Harry Kim. It was hard to remember he was only a few years older than Kim. Sometimes Paris looked world weary enough to match her age.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**C**hakotay barely stifled a yawn as he stepped out of the turbo lift. Praying that there was either a decent coffee substitute or a good breakfast since he was short on rations he entered the Mess Hall. The Hall held only a few crewmembers. Normally the Commander did not come to the Mess Hall for breakfast but his almost nonexistent fund of rations dictated that he had better eat Neelix's food.

One of the crewmembers was Tom Paris, deeply interested in the PADD he held. Chakotay frowned as the quick blue eyes lifted and scanned the room, hesitating on the Commander before falling back to whatever held his attention. There was only a mug in front of the pilot.

"Good morning Commander. I've got some fruit and Chaka Bread made and can make you some eggs in a minute." The bubbling Talaxian cook said.

"Thanks Neelix, the fruit and bread will be good. Any coffee?"

"Well of course! I mean, it's made out of the Chaka kernels that make the bread, but Crewmen Chell thought it was just like a cup of Vulcan coffee."

"I'll have a cup." Chakotay said, though with little fervor. Beggars could not be choosy.

As Neelix bustled about for a mug, Chakotay turned to see if there were any of his closer friends around. There was not. Except for Paris, the rest were from the original Starfleet crew and most reported to either Torres or Tuvok. Chakotay took his dubious breakfast, wondering if the black bread would taste like Vulcan Coffee, and settled himself in the corner with his own set of PADDs and with the ability to see the stars go sliding by.

Ten minutes later he overheard Crewman Sontano raise his voice. "I said we want to sit here." Chakotay glanced over. Two big Crewmen from Ship's Maintenance flanked Sontano, one of his former Maquis members, and all three were glaring at Paris, who was leaning back further in his seat.

As the Mess Hall had fallen silent while the few others turned to see what would happen, Paris's voice, irritatingly calm, could be heard perfectly. "I believe I was here first."

"Well this is our table."

"Really? Last week I think you said that table was yours." Tom smirked as he nodded his head vaguely towards the port doors.

"Do we have to do this the hard way?" Sontano demanded. Tom's look hardened. Chakotay wished he would just move. He really did not want to have to break up a fight.

"You always have to do things the Hard Way." Tom informed the Crewman. He stood up, picking up his PADDS. "Enjoy the table. I'm sure you'll figure out what you use it for eventually. Maybe between the three of you, it may be possible to understand the use of the spoons and forks you have too! I only moved to this table because you couldn't keep the other table clean."

His childish taunt was clearly meant to annoy. He jauntily picked up his empty mug and turned with was probably meant to be a parting shot. Instead, Sontano's fist met his face, promptly throwing the pilot a step backwards into a second blow from one of Sontano's compatriots. Chakotay got up quickly and was shocked that no one else moved to stop the unfair altercation. Before Chakotay could make his presence known Paris tried futilely to shove his nearest attacker off, but was instead knocked backwards, losing his footing and crashing head first into the edge of the table.

He did not get up.

"Sontano!" Chakotay's voice thundered out and all eyes snapped to him, surprise and sudden disinterest filling their faces. Paris still did not get up. As the three crewmen backed a few steps away, guilty looks on their faces, Chakotay rounded the final table concealing the pilot. The younger man was out cold, a nasty cut alongside his left temple leaking blood into his fair hair.

As soon as Chakotay knelt and touched Paris the young man stirred, batting the Commander's hand away and rolling up to a seated position before he managed to get his eyes open. He snapped his head around like a hunted creature and winced before leaping to his feet and backing out of the reach of both his late tormentors and Chakotay. Once on his feet he touched the gash on his forehead, lips twisting slightly with pain.

"Sontano, you and you two, are confined to quarters when not on duty. You are also relieved of your remaining rations for the week and will be allowed twenty minutes to eat each meal." Chakotay dolled out the punishment.

Paris flinched and drew the Commander's attention.

"Dismissed." Chakotay snapped at the silent offenders. Paris turned to leave as well, but Chakotay caught his arm. "Paris, let me make sure you get to Sick Bay."

"Sick Bay?" A look of confusion fell into place. The pilot blinked a couple of times.

Now alarmed that the blow to his head had caused more damage than suspected, Chakotay began to lead the younger man towards Sick Bay.

"I thought… I was supposed to go to my quarters." Tom explained. Chakotay frowned as they entered the turbo lift.

"You aren't the one in trouble. You should learn to keep your comments to yourself but Sontano and the others have no right to shove you around."

"Really?" Paris's lips twisted into a poor imitation of his usual mocking smirk and he blinked as if Chakotay were not clear to his sight. Chakotay reached a hand towards the swaying Pilot. Then the lights went out, the lift was violently shaken and both men were thrown first against the wall and then to the floor, where they lay in silence, both unconscious.

When the transporters and internal sensors were repaired an hour later and the two men were rescued Tom Paris was in a coma from a second, more severe blow to his head.

**··············**

"How is he doing?" B'lanna asked Harry as the Ensign slumped down into the seat across from her.

"He's the same." Kim muttered, stabbing morosely at his food.

"Harry, it's Paris. He'll recover just to spite those who would be glad to see him gone." B'lanna tried to chuckle, but Kim looked mournfully at her.

Two days had passed since Voyager had nearly been pulled into orbit around a dense area of dark space, which Kim had discovered to be a Black Hole that was only just forming. There were yet a few repairs to make, but most of the bumps, bruises and the occasional severe injury had been repaired, except for Voyager's Chief Helmsman. After two violent blows to his head in the course of ten minutes, followed by an hour lying in a heap in the turbo lift, Paris' injuries were life threatening. He had swelling in his brain and the EMH had been forced to perform surgery to drain some of the fluid building up.

The brain was a unique field, even in the 24th Century. Although the EMH had been programmed with as much knowledge as possible, he could not take the place of specially trained neurosurgeon. Forced to resort to opening the skull to drain the dangerous build up the Doctor was now unable to do more than wait for his ministrations to work. He had regenerated as much as he could, but had to work slowly to avoid leaving Paris brain damaged from the regeneration as much as the injury.

Ensign Hamilton entered the Mess Hall, caught sight of Harry Kim and paled considerably. B'lanna barely stifled a chuckle. Hamilton had been the unfortunate pilot at the Helm during the incident. Though she had managed to keep them from being pulled into the wasteland of space, she had failed to do so with the smooth grace that characterized her Chief. She felt painfully guilty about this fact and that it was her inability to keep Voyager steady that had caused the injuries to her Boss. Kim shared the belief that it was Hamilton's fault.

Commander Chakotay came up behind B'lanna and she looked up at him. He turned to Harry Kim after resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "How is Paris?"

"No change." Kim said again. He glanced around the room at the curious eyes about him and his face blanched. "I can't stand this!" He got up and left.

"He's taking this hard." Chakotay sat down.

"I think he hates being reminded every other minute about Tom's condition." B'lanna answered. "Everyone has been asking him how Tom is doing. I'm sorry for him. Except for Captain Janeway I can't think of anyone else I could ask about Tom."

"Without going to Sick Bay." Chakotay mused. B'lanna frowned, disliking the brief pang of guilt that she had not inquired of the Doctor how the pilot was doing, but her mentor seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Perhaps he, too, felt that he ought to have checked on the other man personally. They were all part of the senior staff, and out here, they needed to look out for each other.

B'lanna didn't want to see the pilot inert and silent. In the few occasions she had seen him asleep or ill she had disliked how young and handsome he could be, the image not distorted by his sardonic smirks and bitter wit. While he held up his mocking walls around his private thoughts, she could trust him with all but her heart. She believed she could guess where Chakotay's thoughts were, but she said nothing.

**··············**

The EMH studied the display silently. Even his normal inclination to sing was still. He waited as he watched, hoping this latest treatment would wake his medic. Though all of the crew had quickly realized they needed at least a supplemental knowledge of medicine, Paris knew the most from his time in Starfleet Academy. Why the loud-mouthed man had chosen to take field medicine puzzled more than the Doctor, but the EMH was inclined to believe, should the man give his whole attention to his learning, that Paris could make an adequate doctor.

Samantha Wildman looked up from her display. "There is a ten percent increase in neural activity." She said.

"Well that is the best we've gotten so far." The EMH scowled as he turned to check where the fluid had built up to create dangerous pressure in Tom's head. The fluid had drained away and though the scans still indicated a slight build up, it was less than the last scan.

A monitor beeped urgently and Kes, who was the closest, hurried to look at it. "Heart rate increased to 57 beats per minute." She said, eyes lighting up.

"Another jump in neural activity. Up thirty percent." Sam called.

"Well Mr. Paris." The EMH addressed the still silent man. "Maybe your hard head could survive the rattling it received."

As if to prove the Doctor's sarcastic statements correct Paris's fingers flinched and he slowly opened his eyes. Sam and Kes' faces beamed with victorious smiles as the EMH began running on of his scanners around the Pilot's closely bandaged head. Paris blinked a couple of times and tried to turn his face away from the green light that was too close to his eyes. The Doctor merely followed his weak shift.

"Well, definitely vast improvement." The Doctor said. "Amazing. How do you feel Mr. Paris?"

"Tired. That light hurts." The young man covered his eyes with a pale, shaking hand.

"Dim lights to 50%." Kes ordered the computer. "Is that better?"

Tom split his fingers into a position similar to the Vulcan salute, and his bleary right eye peered out at the light. "Yeah, thanks, Kes. What happened?"

"You've been in a Coma." The EMH announced importantly. "If not for my fine surgical skills you'd likely be dead."

"Did I hit my head?" Tom tested the bandages around his head.

"A couple times." Sam grinned. "You were pushed into a table and then on your way to Sick Bay to get that injury taken care of the lift you were in dropped twenty feet and you appeared to have slammed your head at that time too."

"Wow. No wonder I feel like my head's in a vice. So, what did I do to deserve getting shoved into a table?" Paris grinned mischievously.

"The Commander said you made a few childish taunts, but it's more likely you were just being bullied." Kes said gently, saddened that her friend was treated so poorly. The man himself laughed, and then cringed as if the brief movement hurt. "Doctor, can I give him some pain relief?"

"Go ahead." The EMH said. "In the meantime, let's check out your responses. Can you curl your toes?"

Kes pressed the hypospray into Paris' neck and he smiled gratefully as the medicine relieved his pain. Sam and Kes started cleaning up the discarded scanners as the Doctor finished his examination. "Well, everything still seems to work. You'll need to stay over night, but if you are still doing well tomorrow morning I will release to your quarters. I would say you'll be as good as new in a week."

"Wonderful." Tom yawned. He glanced around the room. "Are my parents here?"

"Your parents?" The EMH stared at him in shock. Sam and Kes both gasped and turned to look at the alarmed patient. "Mr. Paris, where are you?"

"On a ship I take it. Not sure why. Did my leave get a little wild?"

"What is the star date?" The EMH asked.

Tom tried to sit up. "What's wrong? Did something happen to my family? Are they alright?"

"Mr Paris, we are on the Starship Voyager, and we are lost in the Delta Quadrant!" The EMH announced.

"The Delta Quadrant!" Paris cried, his face growing even whiter than before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

"**I**t's not full blown amnesia." The EMH informed the gathered senior Staff, Pablo Baytart sitting in as Paris's proxy. "He can recall both Ensign Wildman and Kes, but events seem to be jumbled up in his mind, to put it in simple terms. He knows he's on Voyager, but he doesn't remember her original mission, or even his own term in the Maquis, although he does seem to recall his prison time."

"Sometimes I think Tom enjoys his status as the most injured crewmember aboard Voyager." Janeway sighed. "Well, what do you suggest Doctor?"

The EMH hesitated for several moments before he answered. "In a normal amnesia case rest and reminders of the lost memories are the best ways to retrieve the missing time. In Mr Paris's case, he has not lost time as much as he has had all his times mixed together. I have very little reference material to go on and while we could help him piece together some of it, there are at least five year that we have very little information to go on, and nothing personal, which is what he would need.

"I think releasing him to his quarters would be best, but I would not want him left alone at first. He is not completely healed. Perhaps Mr Kim could be spared to stay with him overnight and we can reevaluate his condition in the morning." The Doctor suggested.

"Ensign Cutter could take the Gamma Shift." Chakotay spoke up quickly, already pulling up his schedules to see if that would work. Janeway nodded.

"Alright. Harry, report to Sick Bay." She said.

**··············**

Tom sat on the edge of the Bio bed where he had been told to wait, surreptitiously looking around the room again. He had done so many times since he had first woken to the Sick Bay, searching for every exit, every possible means of escape. He trusted Sam and Kes. He even trusted the nameless doctor. But he knew he could not trust everyone. Though he laughed and deprecated his own behavior as the reason for his injuries, he suspected that Kes's belief that he was bullied was closer to the truth.

He needed to know how to get away, what he could use to defend himself.

The sick bay doors slid open with a quiet hiss and a small group walked in, all of them immediately looking at Tom with curious eyes. He grinned back at them, caught up in his delight of the situation. Most of them were familiar to him. The Captain he knew at once. Chakotay, the first officer, whose grave demeanor made him want to shake the man. Harry. B'lanna.

The Vulcan with them was familiar, but his name escaped Tom for the moment.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to bite." Tom said cheerfully when they hung back, eyeing him cautiously. "The doc gave me something for my headache and I'm about as right as I can be without clear memories."

"Has there been any improvement in that area?" Janeway inquired.

"I have no way of knowing for sure. Doctor without a name thinks I'm not applying myself to my recovery."

Even Chakotay's lips twitched at the plaintive tone in which the information was delivered. Tom mentally bowed to his audience as they were distracted by his humor and did not see the concern underneath his wit. They did not need to know his fears. He had enough to do figuring out why all of them were down here. It appeared most of the ship's senior staff was looking in on him, and that meant he had to figure out how he had messed up this time.

"Harry is going to look after you tonight." Janeway told the antsy patient, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "And Mr Paris I do expect you to rest. Mr Kim is under orders to sedate you should you attempt to leave your quarters. We need you alive and healthy to fly Voyager. I assure you everyone misses your steady hand at her helm."

Paris grinned wider. "Why thanks Ma'am. I'm always glad to fly and I fly even better when my skills are acknowledged."

Now he got a long-suffering sigh from Chakotay and snorts from everyone else. So, they were well aware with his proclamations of skill. He could catch scattered glimpses of them in various situations in his mind and they were all familiar with his deliberately egotistical ways. With his reputation, he was shocked they would let him fly Voyager even more than allowing him to join the crew. Sam had mentioned that his medic training had been put to use as well. He could even remember using it to help her through a false labor once.

"Well then get yourself better so you can get us home."

He nodded and jumped off the bed, casting a glance at B'lanna and trying not to let his deep attraction to her show to them. She eyed him with friendly concern, which puzzled him, since he purposely determined to drive any woman he actually liked away, for reasons that were currently very foggy to him. For a moment, he was afraid he might sway, but as he paused to steady himself, the rest turned to look at the approaching doctor and missed his weakness.

"You are only to rest Mr. Paris. No games or wild parties. Even your thick head can only take so much punishment. You have to wear the cortical monitor at all times and if it emits any sort of warning you are to get to Sick Bay at once." The Doctor said as he pushed the small round medical device its location behind Tom's ear. "Mr. Kim, I trust you can keep him resting?"

"I think there are some reports I can read him." Kim grinned. "That should put him right to sleep."

"Are you sure you're my friend?" Tom complained happily.

Harry laughed and motioned to the door with a wave of his hand. Tom skirted the small group in the middle of the Bay with a quick smile. B'lanna stopped him. "Paris, get your head on straight. Hamilton and Baytart are messing with my engines in this dumping ground for the entire gamut of odd phenomenon." She ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." He saluted her.

They all smiled at him again. Satisfied that, for the moment, none of them would strap him down and start poking him with needles against his will he moved out into the hallway and then stopped, unable to recall which direction to head. Harry gently touched his arm and pulled him off to the right.

"Voyager is Intrepid Class." Tom said after several moments.

"Yes." Harry replied.

Proud of his recall Tom reviewed what he knew about the sleek ships. The Intrepids were only a few years old. He had never flown one for Starfleet, but he had run a few simulations on them. Intrepids were equipped with the new bio-gel packs that allowed for a 20% increase in efficiency in the ships response time. Whatever other advantages the gel packs had, Tom did not care. Twenty percent was amazing.

Harry ushered him into the turbo lift. "Deck eight." He said when Tom gave him a wry grin. "Well, you definitely can't fly until you get your memory back. If you can't find your own rooms you'll only get us more lost out here." Tom chuckled. He and Harry had to be good friends. The level of ease between them allowed both for ribbing and serious talk.

Tom's door was three doors down from the turbo lift. The door slid open for the two men and then slid shut behind them. Harry headed for the bedroom nook but Tom stopped to look about the room. He was astonished to discover that it was not just a bed and a toilet as he had, for some reason, been picturing. Although not as spacious as a planet bound home, it was still a little apartment, with an eating area, a living room area, an almost enclosed bedroom, and a bathroom with its own shower.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"I don't remember any of this. Are you sure these are my quarters?"

"Only you would have both a bat'leth and a model starship in your bedroom." The younger man laughed, pointing at the odd array of wall decorations. Tom grinned, heading towards the wall to touch the bat'leth handle. He could imagine it in his hands as he danced with it, swinging, slashing, and stabbing.

The bed was neatly made with a green coverlet. The closet held an array of different clothing. There were bits of the Delta Quadrant all over, little souvenirs of places Tom could not recall. They all looked like items he might collect, pieces of unknown histories, all probably surrounded with stories that were jumbled up with other memories. However, he could not feel comfortable here. It was so… spacious. He glanced at the door.

Harry was turning back the blanket, determined to follow his orders to the letter. Tom quickly returned to the door. It slid open at his simple wave to the sensor and he stepped outside, elation flooding him. When he reentered his quarters Harry looked annoyed, but Tom merely turned to the panel to the side of the door. He scowled.

"Harry, what's my code?" He demanded.

"7843. So why are you so insistent that your door is locked?" Harry asked.

"It feels right to have it locked. No one can get it without my say." Tom answered. He looked around the room. "I can't believe how nice these rooms are."

Harry gave him a puzzled look. "Not really. Intrepid Classes are meant for short-term missions. They aren't very well quartered."

"Try living in a six by six square with only a bed and a toilet." Tom snorted. Harry flinched.

"Tom… maybe you better listen to the Doctor." He suggested eyes full of concern.

"Alright, alright." Tom headed for the bathroom to change into something a little more comfortable. As he changed, he could hear Harry setting up the couch. The younger man was not likely to feel so comfortable unless repetition had made him so, which meant he must be legit. Frankly, Tom could not be sure whom he trusted or not, so he was flying by the seat of his pants. Harry, he decided, was for real.

"I'll be out here, reading those reports." Harry said when Tom came out of the bathroom, yawning against his will.

"You were serious about the reports?" Tom asked incredulously. "Just how green are you, Harry?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Go to bed Tom. I actually like to get my work done with plenty of time, instead of waiting until the last moment."

Tom paused in the bedroom opening. "Have I ever turned in reports late?"

"Only intentionally." Harry admitted.

The pilot laughed. "Good night Harry. Thanks."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

"**N**o! Leave me alone! You're wrong!" Tom screamed.

Harry sat straight up, shocked by the blood curdling cry from his friend. He leapt off the couch and ran for his friend. In the bedroom Paris was thrashing about on the bed, arms raised to ward off the absent blows. He screamed again and when Harry hoarsely commanded the lights to turn on, he found Tom was covered in sweat as he shuddered in a little heap. More terrifying than even the nightmare was the fact that Paris was crying.

"Tom!" He cried, catching his friend's arms and seeking to pick him up like a child, which was hard to do when the pilot was so much taller. "Tom, wake up! It's okay, you're safe!"

"Landon?" Tom whispered weakly, opening his eyes halfway. "Landon, is it over? Are they done?"

"Tom, it's me, Harry. You're on Voyager remember?"

"Voyager?" Tom blinked, trying to gather his thoughts. "You aren't Landon!" He shoved Harry away from him and lurched upwards, staring around the room. "Where are they?"

"Who?" Harry cried in bewilderment.

"Landon, Sari, and Corin! Were they hurt too?"

"I don't know who they are, Tom! They aren't here on Voyager. Remember, you hit your head?"

"Who are you?" With the grace of a big cat, Paris leapt from the bed towards the door. Harry felt a moment of relief that he had stood between Tom and the bat'leth. There was hardness in the other man's voice that alarmed the Chief of Operations. Harry hurried to follow the wavering pilot out to the living area.

"Voyager." Tom muttered as Harry caught hold of him before he could fall. "Harry?"

"Yes. Are you ok?" Harry asked.

"No. What happened to me?"

"You hit your head and were in a coma."

"Why did they tie me down? I was not unconscious! I could see everything they did to me!" Tom's weight sunk both men to the floor. Tom started sobbing, and soon he was shaking badly with mingled tears and shudders of fear and pain.

"Ensign Kim to sick Bay! Medical transport for Mr Paris!" Kim hollered.

**··············**

"I have him sedated currently. " The EMH said.

The weary Captain, First Officer, and Security Officer looked out the office window towards the bio-bed where Harry Kim stood watching the now calm face of his friend. Despite the Op's officers quick thinking Tom's screams had woken his neighbors. The half-asleep officer on duty in Security had unintentionally sounded a ship wide alert after three comm. calls reporting someone being tortured on deck eight, section 5. At 0300, this had been a very unpleasant experience that was only now fully resolved two hours later.

Had she not been so tired, Janeway would have felt sorry for the poor Ensign who had woken the entire ship. Tuvok, with his calm delivery, was known for his strictness and his usually full consequences for an accident. As for the actual cause of this whole affair, it had taken sometime for the sedatives to work and Janeway knew that the crew had heard enough that gossip would be rife in the Mess Hall.

Tom Paris had woken up screaming about being tortured. It would not take long for the more serious gossipmongers to dig up his record and realize that the particular events he had described repeatedly had never made it to his record. But there was that disturbing five-year gap, from his expulsion from Starfleet to his sudden appearance in the Maquis, where something could have happened.

There were fragments of records of times he had been in bar brawls, or held for drunkenness and disorderly conduct on a variety of worlds. None of these had resulted in full reports or medical examinations. Janeway had studied the records herself after a chance recollection of Tom's had revealed his knowledge of a very private culture. However, from everything she could recall Tom Paris had never been strapped down and experimented on, as his terror now told them.

"Ensign Lang will be reprimanded." Tuvok announced.

"Do be gentle Tuvok." Chakotay suggested with a wry smile. "The poor man rarely has one call to deal with a night, much less three in a matter of seconds, with the sounds of screams in the background."

"Just be fair." Janeway sighed. Then she looked at her closest friends and advisors. "Gentlemen, rumor is going to spread fast and I have no information on what memories seem to have come up in Tom."

"Captain." Harry had come to the office door while they were talking. "I looked up the names of the people he asked after." The young man's face was very grave. "He wanted to know if Landon, Sari and Corin had been hurt as well. Those are the given names of the three officers killed at Caldik Prime."

"Mr Paris and his squad's runners were missing only six hours prior to the wreckage being found." Tuvok commented. "There was not enough time for such detailed abuse to take place at Caldik Prime. The events may be confused in his mind."

"He thought I was Landon." Harry said slowly. "He asked me if it was over. He kept asking if he was safe."

"Mr Kim, during Mr Paris' previous time with Starfleet he was never captured by any hostile force, he was never even missing in action for longer than those six hours. It is likely that he has only confused the events in his mind, or perhaps his dream was merely the result of his injury."

"Not likely." The EMH spoke up. "He gave a good many details to me while he was fighting me after his transport to Sick Bay. The scans I was able to run indicated the presence of memories. Whatever Mr Paris saw in his dream, whether convoluted images from various memories, or a long suppressed memory of abuse that he suffered, he was remembering actual events."

"We shall simply have to talk to Tom about it when he wakes up. In the meantime we should decide if this matter needs any official announcement." Janeway said.

"No!" Harry spoke up quickly. "Rumors are bad, but Tom has always lived with rumors. To come out and say 'Mr. Paris had a night terror from a resurfacing memory of torture at an undefined time', that would be cruel, Captain."

"Considering that we do not actually know what Tom was so terrified of, the rumors of his nightmare will be enough. His injury will end up catching the blame and the crew will forget about it as soon as someone else does something gossip-worthy." Chakotay agreed.

"Very well. Doctor, keep us updated. I think I will get an early start on my day." Janeway sighed. "I have enough rations for a good cup of coffee."

**··············**

Tom Paris yawned as the doctor ran his final scan. He was aware of Kes's concern and when Lt. Ayala walked in with a broken thumb, the security officer eyed him strangely. In the middle of the night, he had apparently had a bad dream that had landed him in Sick Bay again. Did the whole ship know about it?

"Mr Paris, what were you dreaming of?" The Doctor cut straight to the matter as he set his instruments aside.

"I have no idea." Tom said. "I don't remember waking up from the dream or coming to Sick Bay. The last thing I can remember is Harry actually reading his reports in my living room while I went to bed."

Neither Ayala nor Kes took pains to hide their curiosity. Tom tensed slightly. The EMH was either unaware or did not care that they could overhear the conversation. "Tom, you were screaming in fear and pain. You told us that you had been tortured and kept asking us if it was over."

"Wow. That must have been a bad dream. I'm glad I can't remember it."

"Was it a dream, Tom?" The Doctor asked, his holographic gaze pinning Tom to the bio bed.

It took every ounce of strength Tom had to laugh. "What else could it have been?" He asked lightly.

"A suppressed memory." The EMH said. Tom barely controlled his legs from shaking. He tapped his forefinger against his thumb.

"I can't remember what the dream was, so how would I know the difference?" Tom asked his voice a little harder than he wanted.

All three eyed him cautiously. "Come on Doc! You have all my records. Was it a memory or a dream?"

"I am inclined to believe it is a memory, but the events you described, being strapped into some sort of cryogenic pod and injected with experimental drugs, we have no record of this ever happening to you." The EMH said.

Bile rose to Tom's throat. He cleared his throat nervously. "I can't remember anything." He said simply. His right leg was now bouncing. The doctor glanced at his jittery patient and then sighed.

"Alright. I'm going to give you a sedative to take tonight to help you get a better night's sleep."

"Ok!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

**A**yala's thumb was healed, but since he need to let it rest a day to complete the process the doctor happily received permission from Tuvok to assign the Lt to escort Tom over the ship in an effort to restore his memory. Paris was too eager to get away from Sick Bay to question the choice and Ayala made no protest. Lt. Mike Ayala was a quiet, stern man. He had never liked Tom Paris, but nor had he been among those who had made the first months on Voyager difficult for the pilot. Now he could not help but feel pity for the damaged pilot.

He undertook the job gladly, preferring the task to sitting in his quarters to rest the appendage that no longer hurt. If his pity came into it at all, he masked it enough that Paris did not catch on to it, though he was usually quick to do so and deflect sympathy with his sardonic wit. It took them about two hours to cover the greater part of Voyager. Ayala saw that Paris was growing tired, though he continued to question the security officer about Voyager's history.

They entered the Mess Hall and Paris stopped mid-sentence, looking curiously around the room. Ayala went to get some food from Neelix, but he watched Paris walk the boundary of the room, eyeing the numerous midday crew eating their lunch. Aware that some of the persons in the room had bullied the pilot, the Cook also kept an eye on the amnesiac man. Having a confrontation would not assist Tom's recovery.

When Tom made his way around to the counter Neelix grinned widely at him. "Hello Tom. Glad to see you're on your feet."

"Thanks."

"What would you like to eat?"

Tom surveyed the array of food cautiously, although with apparent interest. Those nearest him had to smile, aware that the only place his amusement in the novel did not extend was to his food. He also seemed to recall enough of the cook to know he needed to be careful. He chose a sandwich and a curious purple gelatin.

Ayala had to smirk as the pilot turned away from the counter. Even without his memory to warn him Paris had managed to choose the only two foods available that did not contain the ubiquitous Leola root.

Lt Torres entered the Mess Hall as the two men sat down to eat. Once she had claimed some food, she headed straight for them, not even asking permission to share the table. Ayala knew B'lanna well enough that she only would do this without fear that she would be judged by the person she was joining. Paris gave her the same friendly smile he shared with every other person on Voyager, but he continued to watch her as they both ate.

The security officer found himself a sort of third wheel. B'lanna intrigued Tom though his memories of her were few. B'lanna was more worried about Tom than she let on to him. The awkwardness this engendered lasted only for five minutes. Tom asked who Joe Carey was in the hierarchy of the ship and soon B'lanna was repeating the latest Engineering tales for his benefit.

The meal was over when Hamilton, Baytart and Culhane entered the Mess and hurried over to greet their boss with effusive, and genuine, concern. Tom laughed at them, laughed even more when Hamilton tried to take the blame for his injury, and then demanded who was actually flying the ship.

"Con Suin." Hamilton answered. "She paid the best attention to your hole-simulations."

"What sort of simulations?" Exhaustion dropped away from Tom as if he had been given a shot of adrenaline. His reminder of his current memory loss made them all wince. Tom only repeated the question.

"You've made several flight simulations after Baytart almost crashed Voyager into a planet." Sara Culhane grinned.

"I did not!" Baytart snapped. "It was a rogue asteroid and I didn't hit the stupid rock!"

"Are the simulations any good?" Tom asked.

"The only thing you do better than program the holodeck is fly." Hamilton informed him.

"Tom, I believe you are under orders to rest." B'lanna spoke up. The blond pouted.

"I'm sure we could keep it a secret." He suggested.

"No." Ayala spoke up quickly. "I am to deliver you to Sick Bay without any further detours."

**··············**

Tom found that he could not even wheedle Harry into letting him get onto the holodeck. The Doctor had made it clear that Paris was to rest. Kim escorted his friend from Sick Bay, where he had found Tom idly reading his own file in an effort to create the true time line of his life. The pilot argued with Harry all the way back to his quarters where B'lanna was to meet them for dinner and they were going to share their various stories with him to see if that jogged his still jumbled memories. Even once they were in the living area and Tom was seated on the couch, though pale and tired looking, he did not stop talking. Harry set the table and was deciding which of Tom's comfort foods would best suit them when he became aware that the inane chatter was concealing the way his friend was tapping his foot.

B'lanna walked in at that moment. Tom greeted her with a renewed burst of complaint and wheedling, but it did not fool her. "What is wrong?" She demanded the moment he took a breath. He blinked and for a moment he could not conceal his annoyance.

"Nothing."

"Tom, you can talk a mile a minute at any time, but you never try to keep us from talking as well, not unless something is wrong." B'lanna hissed.

The pilot flinched and then hung his head.

"Fine. I can't remember Caldik Prime. I had forgotten it ever happened. I don't want to stop and remember what that was like." Tom spat back. "I don't want to remember."

After that the evening was spoiled. Despite his dictums, it was clear to his friends that Tom was trying to bring back the memories of the accident. He had only spoken of it once or twice to Harry, and never brought it up to B'lanna. Despite his self-deprecation in all other areas, Caldik Prime and its shame had been a taboo subject. Nor did he ever talk about the three friends who had died there.

B'lanna soon left, leaving Harry to argue Tom into going to bed for the night. Settling himself on Tom's couch with a PADD, that did not hold reports tonight, Harry hoped the night would pass quietly.

Two hours later Tom was screaming again.

"No! I don't know what you want! They're dead! I killed them! Leave me alone!"

This time he leapt from the bed without even the briefest sign of lucidity. He ran for the door, but it beeped at his command to open, still secured by his lock. Harry hurried towards him, but Tom ran from him, fleeing into the bathroom. His friend slowly followed him, hands in front of him, palms up, to show he meant no harm.

Whoever Tom saw in his dreams terrified the pilot. The blond man huddled up next to the toilet, hands raised to ward of expected blows. "I can't tell you what you want." He pleaded hoarsely. "Why are you doing this?"

He screamed when Harry touched him gently. Pulling back quickly Kim sighed and once again called for medical transport. Tom faded away into the blue cloud of the transporter as the younger man went to assure Tom's neighbors that no one was being killed. Except in Tom's dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six**

**M**ike Ayala rushed into Sick Bay. He had been on duty for the night shift and had received a summons to assist in Sick Bay. Tom Paris was crouched in the surgical bay, blue eyes livid with a pain and torment Ayala had seen on refugees from the DMZ and Bajoran systems. Irene Hamilton was also there, her green eyes wide with horror.

"I need to get a scan while he's in this condition." The Doctor said shortly. "Ms Hamilton was here when he was transported in, but he's too much for her to handle by herself. We need him up on that bio bed. We can strap him down for the scan."

Ayala nodded and both he and Hamilton moved towards the Chief Helmsman. Tom hissed in anger and fear, backing further away as he glared at them. "Leave me alone. I don't know what you want from me!"

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Ayala hesitated, recalling the rumors of Paris' previous night terror. "He doesn't want to be tied down."

"I need to see what is going on in that head of his if I am to have any hope in repairing the damage! He'll live." The EMH snapped.

Paris had been fighting his dreams for over ten minutes by this time and he was not strong enough to endure it much longer. Irene and Ayala picked him up as firmly and gently as they could and forced him onto his back as the Doctor quickly strapped him down and brought a machine over his head. Tom yelled angrily, fighting the restrains.

He began to curse them. Writhing against the solid straps that held him to the table he yelled insults at them. "Shadows! The name suits you! There's nothing to you, but ugly ambition. You don't really live!" He crowed with mirthless, insane laughter. "You can't break me. You can't turn me into your puppet!"

Then his mood shifted to terror as the machine emitted a long serious of beeps. "No! What did you do to them? It was your fault wasn't it? You tried to kill them! Let me go! Let me go!"

"Doctor, can't you give him something?" Irene cried, staring at her boss with tears in her eyes.

"A moment more and I'll be done. Then I can give him a sedative." As the Doctor took in his final data, Paris quit struggling and lay still, trembling as he watched the scan take place, flinching with any movement on the part of the other three.

His terror flared up again when the doctor picked up the hypospray. "No! No!" He screamed, twisting as far as his bonds would allow him, his pleas turning into a wordless cry as the hypospray kissed his neck and the medicine slipped into his body. Almost immediately his body relaxed. It took a minute for him to fall asleep and he quivered under their gaze until he faded into the kind embrace of oblivion.

"These are definitely not just dreams." The doctor said. He studied the brain waves he had pulled up. "These are memories."

"Can I untie him, Doctor?" Irene asked meekly.

"No. I can't handle him by myself and if he wakes again I'll want another scan." The EMH said.

"Don't you think that's just adding to his hysteria?" Ayala asked.

"Unfortunately it's what is best for him. I'm afraid he'll hurt himself or someone else if he gets up.

**··············**

"He woke up two more times, each time with similar night terrors." The doctor said. Tom did not want to open his eyes, but the feeling that he couldn't move puzzled him. He opened his eyes and blinked at the gray ceiling. Then he tried to sit up.

Panic seized him and he yanked against the restraints holding him to the bed. Not again!

"Tom, calm down!" A worried voice cried, taking his shoulders and holding them, firmly, but not harshly. He let them still his thrashing and opened his eyes again. He almost screamed at the face above him, the solid, grave look of a big man who knew his power. He held onto enough sanity to see the differences in this man, to recognize that this man was not his old tormentor.

A woman was at his other side, gently wiping his sweaty face. "It's going to be alright Tom. Please wake up."

He caught his breath. "I'm alright." He told them and the other man released his grip on Tom's shoulders. Cautiously testing the restraints, he looked at the woman and threw her the most wheedling smile he could conjure. "I swear I'm not usually a violent drunk. Did someone spike the drinks with something more the alcohol?"

The concerned looks on both of their faces melted into brief grins and relief smoothed out the exaggerated worry lines on their foreheads. Satisfied that he'd broken the ice he pulled again at the straps. "Can't I be let up?" He asked brightly. "I swear I won't leap at anyone's throat."

"Considering that you are suddenly lucid, I think we can let you up." A dry voice said. The man and woman he could see had not said that, but they both hurried to undo the straps. "Captain, I'm concerned that if we don't address the root of these terrors he's going to get worse."

Tom sat up as soon as the straps were off him. He blinked around the room at the gathered audience. All were Starfleet. There was the gravelly voiced Captain, who stood by his side. On the other side of the bed was the big man he had first mistaken for the brute Declan, his tattoo a kindly reminder that he was not the man who had so gleefully tormented Tom. There was the balding doctor and a petite woman who stood near him, a pixie nurse of sorts. Finally there was a tall security officer seated against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking as if he hadn't slept all night and as if he wasn't sure if he should arrest someone or pound someone. Hopefully his frustration would not be taken out on Tom.

"Terrors?" Tom asked, glancing around the room again. It wasn't a laboratory as he'd first thought, but a sick bay.

"Yes, Mr Paris. You spent a good portion of the night convinced we meant to torture you." The Doctor said. "Can you recall any part of this dream?"

"Dream?" Tom said. "No." He looked around cautiously. There was an open path to the doors. He judged three or four long steps would get him there, though once outside he would not know where to go. His innate piloting sense told him that he was on a starship and that it was moving at about Warp five.

"Think Mr Paris! If we are ever going to restore your memory, you need to work a bit harder at this. Are you even listening to me?" The doctor complained.

Tom eyed him cautiously. He felt nervous being the center of attention. It didn't feel normal to have all those eyes on him, with something other than anger or reproof in them. The Captain stepped forward and reached her hand towards him. He flinched and shied away from her touch. Immediately all of their faces displayed shock.

"Tom, what is wrong?" Janeway asked.

He looked around again, trying to think of something stupid to say, to deflect their questions. He, the master of opening his mouth and inserting his foot, could not think of anything to say. Instead, he stammered a few unintelligible words. Now there were absolutely no looks of anything but alarm and concern.

Then the door slid open and a tall, straight Vulcan entered. Relief warred with Tom's hard won caution. "Corvik?" He asked. All eyes jumped from the stately Vulcan to the flushed pilot, who was glancing around cautiously.

"There is no one on Voyager by that name." The Vulcan said.

"Why am I here?" Tom asked carefully.

"Tom, you hit your head and your memory is a little messed up right now." The Captain said.

He fell silent, turning his eyes on the security officer again. He knew they were lying. Perhaps he'd been here as a spy and they'd figured it out. If they had, he was on his way back to the cramped rehab center. Where was Corvik? He'd promised Tom to get him out of the Federations hands. When Ianna had last visited him, she had said they were close.

What if that was the lie? What if Corvik was here now and they were going to assassinate the Vulcan? Worse, perhaps Landon or Sari had flown him and been recognized? Then the worst possibility came to mind. One of them was a shadow and they had rooted him out.

**··············**

Tom was ignoring them all, staring at the door, a myriad of dark thoughts racing across his face. Janeway sighed and turned to the doctor. "Is he getting worse?"

"It would be like him." The doctor complained.

Before anyone could say anything more Tom leapt from the bed, brushing past Tuvok and leaping towards Ayala. Before anyone could make a move to stop him, he swung around, both Security officer's phasers in hand, his pale face set in a cold hard look. "Hands up, now!" He ordered.

"Tom-" Chakotay began, but the pilot shot him. As her first officer slumped to the floor, thankfully only stunned, Janeway and the others raised their hands. Kes's face contorted slightly with the look of fear and frustration that had been running over Paris's face. No one else dared talk and since he had taken the only weapons in the sick bay, excluding the cache that Tom himself had stored in the Doctor's office (which was out of reach), they all turned to face him. He had leapt several feet away from Ayala and now stood between them and the door.

"COM badges!" That the laughing, sardonic pilot could be so cool and calculating, even while suffering a head injury, shocked them all. Not even the Maquis could have called Tom haughty and unfriendly. Despite the cold shoulders he had received for a long time the man had only occasionally succumbed to bitterness. Usually Tom could laugh at even his situation. What had he been hiding?

After all their COM badges had been tossed to a little pile at his feet, he suddenly shot a phaser burst above their heads. The doctor flickered and disappeared. He'd shot out the emitters!

"Mr Paris…" Tuvok began, but stopped the moment the phaser in the pilot's left hand was pointed his way. Tom was ambidextrous, a good trait in a pilot. Unfortunately, this meant that, in the current situation, his aim was as good as two men.

"All of you, into the surgical bay." Tom ordered. Kes immediately started obeying, but the rest hesitated until they saw his foot began to tap. "You," Tom snapped at Ayala, "get him in there too." Ayala bent and lifted the unconscious Commander and dragged him into the surgical bay.

The moment they were all in the bay, rather cramped around the bio bed, the pilot erected a force field. He then situated himself by the door, but instead of running, he dismantled the controls and shorted out the door so that it could only be opened manually. He replicated a magnetic privacy lock that kept anyone outside Sick Bay from getting in manually. He kept a phaser in hand the whole time and none of them spoke, aware it would only take a word to disable to the force field, but that that word would get them shot.

"He knows where things are." Tuvok observed. "Whatever is driving him to do this, he is still somewhat aware of who we are."

"Shut up! We'll get to the talking later." Tom yelled. He was now seated at the console outside the force field, phasers set down, but still right at hand. He worked there for five or ten minutes as they all sat down and waited. Janeway held her breath as he grew distracted and seemed to forget about his hostages. When he turned his back to the console and seemed to be considering the replicator again she took her chance.

"Computer, emergency transport all life signs in surgical bay to the bridge." She called. Her voiceprint should have given her instant authorization. Nothing happened.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven**

"**I**'m not stupid, Captain Janeway." Paris snorted. "I only act like it." He replicated some water and came back to sit down at the console. "Now we can talk."

As Paris never acted so deliberately of his own accord they all sat very still. Even Tuvok had the slight downward tilt of his eyebrow that indicated concern. Their captor took a long drink of his water, blue eyes never leaving Janeway's face. After he set the cup down, he got up and walked to edge of the force field.

"You served with Admiral Paris, didn't you?" He said. A bitter tone flooded his voice the moment he mentioned his father. It was a tone of voice that she had forgotten he could use, the adventures of trying to get back home wiping her mind to Tom's old person. Yet here he was again, brought back because of an accident. "I recognized your name. He believed you were the best there could be." He paused and appraised her once more with such a gaze that she was more likely to see on her tactical and security officers.

"The old man isn't a fool. You aren't the one I'm looking for, but you should know Captain, you have a Shadow on board your ship." Paris said.

From the way he said it they all knew he meant deadly serious business. But as Paris watched them none them betrayed any surprise, only puzzlement. This did not allay Tom's suspicions. He smirked, a cold, lifeless grin that sent a shudder through Kes.

"No one wants to confess?" Paris sat down on a chair he pulled up. "Tell me Captain, do you know what a Shadow is?"

"I assume you do not mean the darkness cast by an object between light and the floor." Janeway answered.

"A Shadow is an agent placed in a government or hierarchy with the purposes of swaying politics or events to happen that benefit's the Order of Enlightenment." Tuvok informed them.

"So, they aren't as well kept a secret as they were years ago." The helmsman said, but his eyes were still mirthless. "Either that or you are confessing, Tuvok."

"I am not. However, I cannot claim my race as proof. Shadows have been discovered on my own home world. If you truly believe that a Shadow is on board Voyager, why did you not come to me or the Captain?"

Paris leapt to his feet, fear flashing over his face. "I still don't know if you aren't one! I don't know why I'm here. Clearly my presence here is a problem. You had me strapped to the bio-bed! I can tell you this; I will kill myself before I let you touch me again!"

"Mr Paris, I do not believe there are any Shadows on board Voyager." Tuvok stood up. "Since you clearly have hacked your way into the ships systems to be able to create a force field around Sick Bay and disable the ship from obeying the captain, access my security files. You will see no suspicion of such activity."

Tom was pale, but Janeway was close enough to see he was sweating heavily. The strain his flashbacks was having on him, mingled with his still weak head, had to be disastrous for his health, and she was growing more alarmed for the state of his mental health. Yet at the same time, she marveled at how well he was keeping it together in spite of his brief bursts of fear.

He returned to the console and attempted to do what Tuvok said, but he swayed and leaned against the console after only a few moments. Straightening up he picked up the phaser. His hand was not so steady now, and Janeway held up a hand when Ayala stood up. "Careful." She whispered.

"Only Tuvok." Tom hissed in a hoarse voice. None of them made a move as the force field was lowered and Tuvok stepped back into the Sick Bay. Once the force field was raised again, Tom pointed at the console. "Come here and show me."

Tuvok obeyed, walking to the console. Tom stepped back, out of his reach, but watched as the Vulcan's long fingers typed rapidly. The pilot drew nearer unconsciously.

Tuvok turned as soon as Paris was near enough, grabbed the pilot's pressure point in his neck and then gently lifted the now unconscious man up before he collapsed to the floor. Chakotay rubbed his own aching head, clearly wishing Paris had shared his ignominious heap. Two minutes later, they were all free and were working to restore contact with the rest of the ship.

**··············**

Once the holo-emitters had been replaced, the Doctor and Kes had run a complete bio scan on Paris, who had apparently succumbed to a comatose state again. He was moved to the same bay where he had held his hostages and place on full monitoring, while a force field was erected to keep him from causing further trouble, though even Chakotay had admitted they could not in good conscious press charges against the confused man. Ayala remained in Sickbay as a sort of guard at his own volition.

In the mean time the senior staff, minus the helmsman, gathered in the conference room. There the whole situation was laid before them, including Tom's accusations and the explanation Tuvok had offered. The Tactical Commander had more to add.

"Captain, you will recall that Mr. Paris referred to me as Corvik when I first entered Sick Bay. I am puzzled that he could know that name, and know him enough that he could mistake my features for his. However, the very fact that Mr. Paris knows of the Order of Enlightenment and their Shadow agents, could be accounted for by the fact that he knows Governor Corvik."

"Corvik is a governor?" Janeway was surprised.

"Yes Captain. There is a small three-planet system a day and four hours flight from Betazoid. All three planets can sustain life, although none of them have any native sentient life. Colonists who were trying to create a simple life after the Romulan War settled the planets a hundred years ago. Settled there one hundred years ago. In the years that have passed they have become a prosperous world and they have united their government into one. The planets were settled first by a co-colony of humans and Vulcans, but they welcomed all who could come with designs of peace.

"These planets call themselves the independents. While they are allies of the Federate, they are also their own separate entity. Due to a disagreement on the moral relativity of the Prime Directive, they refused admission to the Federation. As of the time of our arrival in the Delta Quadrant, Corvik of Vulcan was governor of the Independents."

"Well, Mr. Tuvok, we appear to have a mystery on our hands. How does Mr. Paris know such a reputed man as Corvik?"

"Indeed. I would like to know. Mr. Paris' own reputation would not indicate him being welcomed in that system."

"What I want to know," Ensign Kim spoke up, "is how Tom could know of an Order that is kept so secret only Tuvok knows about it."

"If this incident has taught us anything, it is that Tom Paris knows a good deal more than any one suspects." Chakotay pointed out. "He not only managed to swipe phasers from two highly trained officers, he also managed to isolate Sick Bay in only a quarter of an hour, cutting us off from the rest of the ship without even communications. I don't think anyone could just do that."

"The Order of Enlightenment is a group of an unknown number of persons who influence politics and evens to their ends. Their chief end is to gain power for themselves. Since the few planets that we know of have always been adversely affected by their actions it can not be expected that they want to use said power for any good." Tuvok said. "I am only aware of it myself due to my previous posting in Starfleet Acadamy. My immediate superior was Admiral Liruk, also a tactical officer. The Admiral had served with Ambassador Spock, who was the first to uncover evidence of this conspiracy."

"This does not answer how Paris, of all people, would know about them." Torres blurted.

"Now does it seem to explain why these people tortured Tom? How is he a threat to them?" Kes said sadly. Janeway was startled by the innocent girl's question, for she immediately realized that if they could answer that they would see the puzzle pieces fall into place.

"Commander Tuvok, I believe that under the circumstances we should go through Mr. Paris's personal logs. Not only have his own actions endangered people, but his accusations could indicate a much larger threat that he may have knowledge of, but that he cannot communicate in his present state." The Captain said. Her officers were immediately uncomfortable. None of them would wish for such an invasion of privacy, yet none protested. Both the possible threat and the mystery of the one man they had all thought they could read like a book made them accept the charge.

**··············**

Ensign Harry Kim let himself and Commander Tuvok into Tom Paris's neat quarters. Although Tom collected all sorts of odds and ends, his military upbringing had instilled a sense of order in him. Yet even in his arrangements of his personal items, there was a hint of rebellion. His clothes might be neat and carefully arranged, but he intentionally mingled his uniforms among his civvies. He openly displayed such odd trinkets as a bat'leth, a model ship that he had designed himself, and odd rocks and souvenirs he would come up with on their various away missions, many of which were bizarre and dark.

The two men sat down at the computer console and Harry mournfully pulled up the log in screen. He felt as if they were violating his friend's peace of mind. He entered Tom's code. After Tom had repeated broken into Kim's quarters the ops officer had complained hard enough that the pilot had taught him how to 'pick the lock' and after that they had always know each other's codes, barging in and out of the others rooms with a sense of brother-ship.

"Access denied." The computer informed them in its nasal monotone.

Harry sighed and set about hacking into Tom's personal database. He found the task much more difficult than he had imagined. Tom had encrypted his files well. It took the combined efforts of Harry and Tuvok to break in.

They pulled up Tom's personal Logs.

They were encoded to: Thomas E Paris, to be sent to Governor Corvik of the Independents and Ianna Loio in the event of his death.

Harry started to play the first file.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter eight**

"**S**tardate 2371.3. Personal Log of Lt Tom Paris.

"I hate that title. If I could have thrown the pips out the nearest airlock, I would have. My only consolation is that this isn't the same Starfleet that ignored all our requests for help. Captain Janeway isn't like Captain Liri. I'm almost sure she isn't a Shadow agent.

"Well Corvik, I've managed to surprise even you this time. I hope I'll get to see you raise your eyebrows at this one, but in the likely event that I don't make it back, here is my report on my most recent mission. Turned out a bit longer than expected, though Ianna let me know you were working every angle you could to get me out of Auckland. I suspect that Warden Miller was at least on the Shadow payroll, if not an agent herself. That woman had it out for me. Don't worry, Corin, I did managed to annoy her as often as she sent me to solitary.

"Anyway, after Landon dropped me off in the DMZ I headed to the nearest bar, a lovely little place called Tom's Nook. I knew with a name like that it was fate. It was easy to find a couple of souls needing a good fight and a few hours later I was sitting in a brig, serenading the other prisoners with a drunken version of _It's a good Day to Die, _in guttural Klingon. That is where Captain Chakotay found me and paid my bail in exchange for my piloting services in the Maquis. I told you that keeping my reputation up as a pilot would help us out.

"I still cannot give you solid proof about Chakotay. I do not think he is a Shadow Agent, and yet I cannot be positive. He was passionate about his cause, though I sense that our present distance from Home has made him wonder if it was really worth it. Yet at the same time, he was so ruthless in the way he fought. I doubt most of the 'fleeters who followed Chakotay could tell me what the Order of Enlightenment is. Dalby, especially, just wanted a fight.

"My mission was an abject failure as you are already aware. Within a month, Starfleet had caught me. I know it was intentionally set up that way, whether by a 'fleet spy, a cardie spy, or a shadow I don't know. At first, I thought I'd been caught by the Shadows. I tried to off myself and ended up on suicide watch in their Sick Bay.

"I'm sure you all saw my trial as a traitor so we'll skip that and Ianna can tell you that my father made sure I got the heaviest sentence I could. The old man is still so blind. We can skip over Auckland too. I don't have enough evidence against Warden Miller and no one there would corroborate anything I said.

"I wonder how close you were to getting my release. It is certainly odd that Janeway showed up out of the blue to force my presence as an observer on the ship. For a bit, I thought the Admiral was trying to regain some honor, but now I'm not sure. Someone on Voyager, most likely a fleeter, had tampered with my replicator so that any food I was replicating had a bit of veena acid in it. Since we have Bolians onboard, the fact that they could slip that into the replicator without triggering an alarm is not surprising. Of course, it took me the whole week to figure it out. I am glad that my missions are not a matter of public record, or whoever was trying to off me would have used something more potent once they knew that I had a natural tolerance for the stuff.

"Voyager's new chief engineer was furious when I 'accidentally' wiped the replicator system and everything had to be reprogrammed. The replicator was programmed before we left DS9, or the Agent is lying low until my guard is down. Well anyway, I think the only point of this whole 'observer' gimmick was not to give me a leg up at a review meeting, but to get me out into a place where an accidental death would not be hard to explain.

"It is possible that Doctor Fitzgerald was the Agent. He could have easily made my death look like a matter of accident and he certainly rubbed my face in my reputation, although at this moment the only persons I'm sure aren't going to pound my face in are Captain Janeway and Ensign Kim. Kim reminds me of you Sulu, back in the Academy when you kept addressing my father as sir and never loosening up, even when he permitted you too. He looks a lot like you too.

"So we got pulled out into the Delta Quadrant by this long lived, but dying alien who wanted someone to take over his responsibility towards the people of this planet he'd messed up. The guy would not send us back after we would not suit his purposes and there were these ugly guys called Kazons with bunches of moss for hair who were going to get the array that could have sent us home so we destroyed it and got stranded out here. Obviously, that's the abbreviated version of events, but if you get this then there will be a lot more information about what actually happened.

"I hope you're all well and not fretting about me too much. I also expect Landon and Sari to name their kid after me! It's the least you can do since I'm stuck out here, and then you'll have a Tom on the Squad again. I'd tell Corin and Ianna to name a kid after me too, but Tom never sounds right for a Betazoid and I forbid you to inflict Thomas on your kids.

"Landon, Sari, Corin, I know you're probably blaming yourselves once again that I'm out here, but I'll say it again. Everything I've gone through was worth it. We're still one for all. Carpe Diem and seize the skies!

"Corvik, thanks for everything. You too, Ianna. I hope I'll get to say this in person someday, but I'm honored by both your friendships.

"One last thing, Corvik. Should you receive this because I'm dead, will you, as long as you can do it without compromising the others to the Shadows, will you let my father know the truth? I'd like to believe he could be proud of me for what I did."

**··············**

As Harry Kim listened to the recording of Tom's first personal log onboard Voyager for the second time in two days he watched the senior staff closely. When the young Ensign had first heard it he had been dealing with the shock of finding that his best friend wasn't who had made himself out to be, and even more shocked that Tom appeared to be some sort of spy for the Independent Governor. Without the events of the past three days leaving them with hints of this none of them would have believed what was recorded there, certain Tom was playing a joke on them. Now the entire staff was growing more uncomfortable, both in the fact that they had never seen through Tom's mask and in the fact that some of them had, if not bullied, then made sure Tom was aware of his untrustworthiness.

Tuvok ended the recording. "Ensign Kim and I played most of his logs. Except for a tendency to gossip about the crew much of the logs contained disturbing truths. Not only was Lt Paris nearly killed by the acid in his food, which injuries he somehow managed to heal without leaving a medical record, but he was receiving hate filled messages from numerous members of the crew, was continually bullied by the same crewmembers, including members of security, and was even beaten several times due to the misplaced distrust and disgust both Starfleet and Maquis held for him. These events, while clearly violations of his person, also prevented him from rooting out who was trying to kill him.

"He managed to trace the replicator tampering to Commander Cavit, but other events made him believe there was another Shadow Agent on board Voyager. However, after his subterfuge during the time that Mr. Jonas was giving information to Seska the beatings, the near death events that he never reported, and most of the bullying ended. By his own investigations, he believes either that the Shadow Agent was Michael Jonas or that the Agent decided to lie low for a time since Mr. Paris's death would have been highly suspicious at the time. Prior to the incidents that caused is amnesia he had not been disturbed by anyone but Crewmen Sontano, Miller, Dalby, Lonka and Ryan. He also indicated that he had several times been punished for brawls in which he had only taken part in to defend himself."

It was possible to distinguish a stiff note in Tuvok's voice, as he was aware it was his own reports that had caused Tom's punishments for said brawls. Yet Janeway, though disturbed by the clearer picture of what her Chief Pilot's life had been on Voyager, knew that Tom had not ever officially protested his punishments. Before she could remind her guilt stricken staff of this fact, Ensign Kim spoke up.

"Captain, besides Governor Corvik and the woman Ianna, whom appears to be a Betazoid Doctor, he also addresses his logs to Landon Sulu, Pol Sari, and Corin Loio. These are the three officers reported killed at Caldik Prime." Kim hesitated a moment, looking at Tuvok. "We pulled up the reports from Caldik Prime Captain. The bodies of the three were never recovered. All of their runners had broken apart on entry to the atmosphere of the planet. Tom's was the only runner that made it to the surface intact. While genetic material was found it could never been matched to the three pilots."

"Ensign Kim is correct. Lt Paris has never told the truth about what happened at Caldik Prime. It appeared he meant to leave the incident as an unknown cause. We still have no knowledge why the drastic measures to fake their deaths were taken, or why Mr. Paris chose to bring censure on himself by saying he had lied about whose fault was the crash." Tuvok said.

"Well it appears that some of our questions are answered and we now have new questions. I know that we all have to face the fact that Mr. Paris is likely undeserving of most of the treatment he has received here on Voyager, but I would remind you that he did seem to enjoy and invite some of it. Until he is recovered, we cannot know for sure what his explanation might be, so I suggest we do some research of our own regarding a Shadow Agent, and hope Mr. Paris recovers quickly. Doctor, how is he doing?" Janeway looked towards the monitor where the Doctor was watching the proceedings.

"If his vitals continue to improve I believe he'll wake up from this coma in the next day. However I cannot tell you what his state of mind maybe." The EMH said. "I still detect a small build up of fluid, and I'm concerned that I may need to do surgery to relieve the pressure. I will keep you updated. I would ask that you leave Lt Ayala here. The Lt is aware of Mr. Paris's terrors and has been a great help in keeping curious bystanders away, and should Tom wake up violent again his help would be appreciated."

"If he wished to give up so much of his own time I see no problem with a brief alteration in his assignments." Janeway looked at Tuvok, Ayala's supervisor. "Alright. I would like a search done for sabotage, under the guise of an overhaul do the strain Voyager is going through in this part of space. If there is a Shadow Agent on board we need to know how they are working."

Torres and Kim, who would have the bulk of the work, glanced at each other as they both wondered how to miser away a few more hands from the other. Tuvok looked quiet and grave. Kes looked sad and Neelix was trying to whisper comforting words to her. The Doctor had already closed his channel. Chakotay was staring pensively at B'lanna. The First Officer was not normally inclined to share his emotions and his unwavering glance drew all their curiosity.

"What's wrong, Chakotay?" Torres asked.

He sighed. "I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop from you, too. I seem to have had more spies on my ship than I did Maquis."

"I do not know if you could call Mr. Paris a spy. He was investigating the possibility that you were a Shadow Agent." Tuvok said, but he was ignored for the most part, since B'lanna straightened and looked almost guilty.

"Chakotay, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out! I'm working for the Klingons." The Chief Engineer said sardonically.

Everyone, but Tuvok, laughed. "You've hung around Paris too much." Chakotay said and they laughed again, but then, remembering the master of deadpan delivery was currently unconscious and not in his right mind, they grew subdued.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter nine**

"**C**aptain, Commander. I have more to show you in private." Tuvok said as the Captain dismissed them. B'lanna looked thoughtfully over her shoulder, and then left, certain she could learn from Harry if Tuvok's private report had anything to do with Tom. Once the doors closed behind the senior staff Tuvok pulled up a log of Tom's from about six months into their trek homewards. The Vulcan hit play.

The Tom Paris who appeared on the viewer looked haggard. The lights behind him were dimmed making it hard to see him clearly, but his shoulders were hanging and his fist was tightened about a cup of dark liquid.

"I've never been so homesick." He began without a heading. "I love Harry like a brother, he's stayed true to his word that he didn't let others choose his friends, even in spite of my reputation. Sometimes I want to tell him everything. Other times I want to drive him away before I ruin it all.

"Do you know it's not the isolation that leaves me so lonely? The crew lets me fly. I've proven myself enough there, and since I've opened Sandrine's up most of them seek to be on speaking terms just so that I don't decide to pull the program from the public. No, what is so hard are the brief moments when we are all working in tandem, one well-oiled machine of a crew, and suddenly I think I'm back with you all, and we're flying around the Alpha Quadrant with all our secrets, laughing and knowing each other. Then I remember how much I have to hide from this crew."

With these words, Paris leaned further back in his chair and the light caught in at a different angle, revealing a split lip and bruised temple. "I try to think of what you would do in this situation, Corvik, but I'm not you. I don't know if I can trust Janeway's authority or Chakotay's protection. Besides," he waved his hand towards his face, "Dalby, Seska and Taylor did this. Taylor's 'fleet and the others are Maquis. Last time it happened, it was Sontano and someone else I couldn't see, and Chakotay came in and thought it was a free for all brawl. I was stuck in my quarters for fighting and I swear I did not start it. This time no one caught them at least, so if I can get my face cleaned up no one will know about the fight."

For a moment, he stared at his cup and those watching the recording saw his jaw tighten. "Seventy years is a long time to live this way. But I can't go to Captain Janeway. I don't know if she would believe me and even un-believed accusations could cause problems with the crew. Their mutual hatred of me has helped overcome some boundaries of the fleet and Maquis. And no, Ianna, I will not sacrifice my life to the greater good. I am the best pilot they've got. I'll just have to find away to make them leave me alone, or at least to avoid them.

"Well, at least I know the truth. Sometimes I want to laugh in their face. I can't help it. Chakotay especially makes me want to rib him. He's so serious and respectful, so certain of his own knowledge. I can't share his feelings like Ianna or Corin could. Its not that I don't respect him. As far as he is aware and able, he has kept his promise. It's just that he thinks he knows me and he doesn't."

The pilot laughed suddenly and leaned forward. "I've got a very good idea. I think I'm going to let it simmer a little bit. Maybe I'll get a bit of information on Chakotay from Torres when we take the shuttle to this nameless planet to mine dilithium. Neither Torres nor Durst, whose also coming along, seem to mind me anymore. I could almost say that Torres calls me a pig affectionately, and yes, Ianna, before you ask, I do deserve the title, most of the time. I wonder if Torres could even be convinced to help me prank Chakotay."

Here the pilot began to ramble about his prank ideas, which alarmed Chakotay somewhat since Paris had never followed through on these ideas, as far as the Commander was aware. Tuvok soon explained the reason, reminding them that the away mission Tom mentioned had been the one that had ended with Durst dead, Torres split into two and Tom Paris somewhat altered by his inability to protect either of them. Apparently, the pranks had fled the pilots mind.

"There were a couple other logs where he mentioned both being beaten and then punished for it. I am concerned by this because I have reviewed the reports on file for these incidents. In none of them did Mr. Paris actually make a report of the affair." Tuvok said.

"Look into it further." Janeway said. She did not want to look at Chakotay. It wasn't completely his fault. She had been ready to jump on Tom for something he hadn't actually done a few times herself. Who knew who was actually to blame?

**··············**

The EMH set down his final tool and looked at the closed incision where he had carefully drilled in Tom Paris's skull to perform another procedure. His programming shouted at him that he was not a neurosurgeon. But when Paris's vitals had taken a dangerous dip, he had had no choice. The man would either never wake up, or never wake up as himself again. At this moment the Doctor would have been relieved, even happy, to hear Paris rambling about his old Doc Brown, or smirking his way through an unbelievable tale.

Kes began to clean up the tools as the Doctor stood next to the inert form. It still stunned him to think of Paris, who made a big deal about the littlest scrape, had hidden beatings. He turned away and went to make a record of what he had just done. Neelix soon came in and the two Delta Quadrant natives stood by Tom talking to the unconscious man, telling him all the gossip he loved to spread.

Lt Ayala returned from his meal soon after that and guarded the door faithfully, though no one actually came by for medicinal purposes. Rumors were rife over Voyager Neelix, who was the only person more likely to be aware than Tom, told them. For once, the rumors involving Tom Paris that were whispered held hints of bravery. For once, no one immediately thought the worst of him because they had overheard his screams and his defiance to a torture that was long over.

Ayala had more than one person to tell there was no change in Paris's condition. The big Security officer had long ago set aside his resentment in Paris apparent betrayal of the Maquis. Ayala had a brother in a rehab colony. He could read between the lines of Paris's insolence. Now he began to wonder what more Paris could be.

"Doctor!" Kes cried. Paris moved, groaned and opened blue eyes to the world. He glanced around with a confused look. There was no recognition in his gaze, but he also did not look afraid. The Doctor hurried over and the moment he saw Tom awake he began scanning him.

"Whatztat?" Paris mumbled, following the machine curiously with his eyes. Kes helped raised the head of the bed so he was upright, and then she gave him a long drink of water. "Where am I?"

"You are in Sick Bay. What is the last thing you remember?" The Doctor asked, in the gentlest tone he could manage. It was easier than he expected.

"Um…" Paris thought and then frowned. "I…" He looked a little afraid. "I can't remember anything."

This did not shock the others as much as they thought. Perhaps they even felt a hint of relief that Paris didn't have to go through his terrors again, at least not now.

"Alright, Tom." The Doctor said. "You've had a bit of problem with your memory, the result of getting hit in the head. It is probably just your minds way of resting."

" 'Kay." The patient said, shivering a little as Kes drew the blanket up to his chest. He closed his eyes and seemed to drift off into sleep. His simple trust was more shocking than his now complete memory loss. Tom never trusted anyone fully. Now a mere sentence from the doctor had satisfied him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten**

**B'**lanna Torres had had enough of Harry Kim's mingled self-recriminations and fear of seeing Tom Paris. If anyone could claim to be Tom's friend, it was the Ensign and Harry had only gotten into Tom's logs on orders of the Captain. Besides, in Tom's current state he couldn't know what they had done, what they had learned. The engineer was determined not to go see Tom alone and she had to admit she really wanted to see him, to see for herself how he was doing.

The guilty Ensign was morosely pushing his food around his plate when she stalked up to him and shoved the plate aside with a bit more of a klingon snarl than she meant to give him. "Get up Starfleet."

"Go away." Harry hung his head.

"Harry, if Tom get's mad at anyone once he can understand what we all did by listening to his logs, it will have to be the captain. It was her orders. Now you sitting here sulking will not help Tom recover. You're the only one who ever accepted Tom as he was, without him having to prove a thing to you. He'll need you."

With those words, she hauled Kim off his seat and began dragging him out the door, much to the entertainment of the other occupants of the Mess hall. Kim tried to break away, but she was too strong and determined. He found himself marched down the hall towards the turbo lift. She shoved him in, called for Deck Five and turned to glare at him. "You can't abandon Tom, Harry. He's taken too much from the rest of the crew."

"That's what makes it worse!" Harry cried. "In the logs he said over and over how much I meant to him. I never knew that sometimes I was the one who kept him sane. I never knew how far the bullying, the abuse of the crew went! Now I've betrayed his trust. I _was _the only one who had never abandoned him. Now…"

"Maybe watching the logs wasn't right, but to avoid him because of it will only make the injury, if there is one, worse! Besides, I'm not going to see him alone. He may have lost his memory, but I highly doubt he's lost his personality. I'm going to need you to keep me from hitting him."

Harry laughed. B'lanna had hit Tom a time or two, but always in a way that seemed Klingon manners for 'you're an idiot, but you're a brave idiot'. Harry usually managed to step in and say something soothing, although he had a feeling that Tom at least enjoyed baiting Torres. If he couldn't flirt with her, he would settle on fighting with her.

They had reached Sick Bay's doors and hesitated, both steeling themselves for what would have to be a change in their friend. The door opened on command but Ayala was immediately in the way, blocking the way in, and the line of vision. Apparently, a few crewmembers had tried to gawk at Paris. Harry was ready to use that as an excuse to flee, but Torres merely leveled her gaze at the Security officer and after a moment of hard staring she apparently won, and they were allowed inside.

Tom was still in bed, thought propped up. He was weak with exhaustion despite repetitive naps. But he was currently conscious and when he saw the two visitors, he granted them a smile. Both felt instantly sad.

There was a world of innocence in that smile. The man behind the smile did not know of betrayal, did not know abuse and hatred. All that had driven Tom to conceal who he was behind his mocking wit was gone and what was left was a young man who could not dream of being given a cold shoulder. B'lanna was ready to rip off someone's head at the sudden realization that Tom had been innocent of his reputation all along, of Caldik Prime, even of being a mercenary.

"Hi Tom." Harry was the first to recover. He suddenly felt like Tom must have felt so many times with him, looking at the other man free of a damning weight while holding the weight on his own shoulders.

"Hi." Tom replied, smiling in a friendly way. He looked from Harry to B'lanna and promptly forgot there was anyone else there. This Tom did not conceal his delight in the woman. He stared at her long and hard until she was uncomfortable. Just when she was going to say something, he spoke up. "Wow. You're… gorgeous."

Every thought fled from B'lanna and it was her turn to forget that there was any one else in the room. Tom had told her she was pretty many times, his naturally social nature made him ready to offer a good word to anyone. It was impossible for her to miss his attraction. Yet he had never acted on it, accepting her cold remarks with his stupid wit, never seeming to be hurt by her attempt to drive his attraction away.

Now, to have this guileless version of the same man telling her the same thing the sardonic man had said, made her wonder if he wasn't just looking at her as a conquest. People called Tom a playboy, but Harry had once confided in her that Tom rarely actually went on a date with the women he flirted with. There was an odd sort of platonic flirting done with the Delaney sisters, who seemed to have decided they liked the bad boy appeal of Tom Paris, but B'lanna now wondered how he had gotten that reputation, considering that for months the only women who spoke to him without a sharp retort was the Captain, Kes and the Delaney sisters.

"I'm sorry if that was wrong to say." Tom spoke up, concern written on his face when she did not speak. "I can't remember anything."

"And yet," the EMH spoke up with friendly teasing, "you still manage to shock us all with your bluntness. This encourages me to believe you'll recover your memories. You're already well on your way to annoying us just for the fun of it."

"I wasn't trying to annoy her!" Tom protested. "I like to annoy you, but she's so…" he turned to look at B'lanna with rapt adoration on his face.

"Well, thanks Tom." B'lanna found her voice. She was going to have to extract a promise, on pain of Klingon rage, that this went no farther that those in the room now. Harry, influenced too much by the mischief Tom loved, had a glint in his eyes that she dreaded. "It is nice of you to say what you did."

"How are you doing Tom?" Harry jumped in.

"Well I can't remember anything so I actually don't know." Tom grinned. "But I like being able to lie here and hear the ship fly. Though I think there might be something up with the starboard nacelle. When ever the ship's course changes it doesn't feel fight."

B'lanna, who had spent the morning chasing down a blown plasma conduit that was causing havoc in said nacelle, felt surprised. Tom had often bragged on his ability to tell the ship's speed instinctively. But this was something more. If he could feel those slight nuances at the helm, it explained why he was the sort of pilot he was.

"We're working on that nacelle." B'lanna promised.

"Okay." Tom laid his head back on the pillow Kes had brought for him, suddenly looking tired. He looked ready to fall back asleep.

"Mr Paris needs rest." The EMH announced, shooing them out of the Sick Bay.

They retreated before Tom's blinking eyelids rather than the Doctor. B'lanna ignored Harry's pointed look and went to her quarters to think over what she had learned, and to wonder what could be should she accept that he did find her _gorgeous._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter eleven**

_**T**__he big man was called Declan. He lived in the bowels of the ship called _Glory. _His job on that ship was to break the prisoners brought to him, whether to force them to give up the information they held to his employers, or to turn them into puppets of the same. _

_The young man lying on the tilted table was shivering from the violence of the dreams forced on him by the drugs Declan had administered the night before. This one was young, but the Bosses wanted him to work for them. It was not often that anyone, but especially a spoiled rich kid, could outwit the Bosses. Yet it was for that very reason that the kid was strapped down to the table, force-fed a cocktail of hallucinogens, stimulants and minor amounts of painful poisons. _

_He had been here for over three weeks, and his pallor and thinness bore testimony to the brutality of those weeks. Declan leaned over him, to press the screws of emotional turmoil more firmly into his mind. "No one cares that you're missing. Your name has not appeared on any news vid, any missing persons reports. You are utterly alone in the world now. What good does it do to fight?"_

_A further shudder, accompanied by a moan of terror and pain, spoke of the "patient's" discomfort. Clouded blue eyes tried hard to glare imperviously up at his torturer, but Declan was good at his job. He raised his hand and the helpless prisoner cringed as he waited for the blow to fall. So tired of fighting, so tired of reminding himself why he couldn't just give in, so saddened by the losses he had suffered, it was all he could do to stay above the thin line of insanity. _

_When the blow fell, it ended the misery for a brief time. _

**··············**

"Doctor?" Tom Paris opened his eyes and looked at the EMH. Kes, across the room, held her breath. "What happened?"

"You hit your head."

"I know, but what happened to me? I had this dream…" His voice trailed away and for a moment, his terror filled Kes. Then he shook his head as if to shake away the unpleasant emotions. "Someone was hurting me."

The Doctor said nothing for a moment. There was some opinion (particularly by Harry Kim) that the EMH had aggravated the terrors Paris had suffered previously. The hologram had come to share that belief. He must tread carefully in this unknown ground. "It is some of your memories coming back. We don't know everything ourselves. Do you want to tell me about these dreams?"

Paris shook his head and closed his eyes. "Just don't give me something that is going to make me dream." He said.

**··············**

Captain Janeway walked into Sick Bay, mildly amused to find that Lt Mike Ayala was still guarding Paris. The big security officer had apparently decided to adopt Paris as a younger brother after the past week and had been the one to explain to Tom Voyager's history each time Tom woke up with different memories. Currently the big man sat on one end of the patient's bio-bed and Tom sat on the other, a chessboard between them.

Since Tom had woken from the second coma the day before he had passed from completely amnesiac to childhood memories to memories of the abuse he had suffered at some point. The Captain wasn't sure where his mind currently was, but the Doctor was eager to let her know. He waved her into his office. Tom, so normally aware of his surroundings, was focused on the game.

"Lt Ayala barely managed to get Tom to play that game and it's the only thing that's taken his mind of his parents. As far as I can tell, he is currently remembering his teenage years and thinks that his parents are furious at whatever stupid thing he did to end up in Sick Bay. He's not been so tired this time awake and if he rests the remainder of the afternoon Kes and Lt Ayala will take him to the holodeck to see if we can't use it to help him remember." The EMH said.

Janeway looked out the window. "Has he said anything further about the Shadow Agents?"

"No, and we are not going to bring it up!" The Doctor snapped. "If he remembers we shall address it, but I would rather not put his body through the physical stress of remembering that!"

"Of course Doctor."

**··············**

The halls of a starship were always gray and nondescript. Perhaps a strip of color allowed on the edges of the floor, but only numbers could tell you that you were on Deck 5 and not Deck 8. The crewmembers that walked the halls could sometimes fade into the background too. Except for Tom Paris. While many of the crew had often accepted that the Captain or even Commander were occupied none had ever seen Tom Paris pass them without a nod at least. Even in the first days when he had been Voyagers pariah, he had refused to hold that position.

Today was similar, but perhaps the reasons for Tom's friendliness were different. He could not remember their names and was eager to learn them. Most stopped at his smile and nod to ask how he was doing. Kes was relegated to the duty of letting each person know that he was still recovering. The few that did keep going shared a nod, one or two after glancing nervously at Ayala impassive face.

When they reached Holodeck one Kes began to input the first of Tom's unique programs. The pilot looked full of mischief as he eyed the security officer. "Are you part Vulcan? You are as serious as one."

"I do not find much to amuse me. But I like to laugh when it's real." Ayala said seriously.

"Hmm." Tom watched Kes turn to them.

Harry and B'lanna probably would have been a better choice to take him the holodeck and work on his memories, but a malfunction in the waste systems on Deck 4 had both of them racing around to fix it. Kes and Ayala had also both stayed with him in the last couple of days of his slow recovery. The doors slid open and they walked into one of the numerous programs Tom had created.

Paris stopped just inside the door and stared, mouth open with delight. The smoky interior of Sandrine's stood before them, the holograms moving about in their spaces, ignoring the newcomers. Tom's caretakers stood to one side as he began to explore, and they gave each other satisfied smiles as he grew in confidence, until by the time he reached the bar he could have been the happy-go-lucky host of the crew's favorite recreation location they both knew.

"Well Thomas, where have you been?" Sandrine scolded fondly.

"Sandrine." Paris breathed happily.

**··············**

Over the next two hours they showed him most of his programs based on contemporary and realistic ideas. He recognized most of them and more than a few began to stir and reorder his memories. As they escorted him back to Sick Bay it was obvious he was distracted by the flood of images opened up for him.

"Well, how are you feeling?" The EMH asked after he had run his scans.

"A bit confused." Tom said. "I can't sort everything out." He rubbed his head wearily. "But I can remember a lot more. I'm just not sure if it is the right order."

Harry and B'lanna, having fixed the problems on Deck 4, joined him in the Sick Bay. He greeted them with a smile that made both of them sad, for the innocent freedom of secrets had left him. He now could remember enough that the fresh look of delight was now tempered with the mocking caution everyone had mistaken for shallowness. While it told them that the Tom Paris they knew was coming back to them, to have seen Tom trust them all so implicitly, the knowledge that he would still be hiding things from them, who were his closest friends, stung them.

"Have you remembered more?" Harry asked.

"Quite a bit more." Tom smirked, his blue eyes twinkling, but this time they were all able to see the amusement hid a darker meaning. His façade was returning. He was pulling the veil across the man they had learned so much about over the last week, showing them only the confident, egotistical pilot.

Even the Doctor found that the encroaching return of the sarcastic Tom Paris created more grief for his friend than annoyance.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter twelve**

**T**om grumbled under his breath as Harry firmly escorted him into Sick Bay. His memory had fully returned, but he was still off duty and watched like a hawk by either Harry, B'lanna, Kes or Ayala. Since he only had hazy images from his first awakening, he suspected something had happened to concern his friends. If it had been his nightmares, he knew someone would ask him eventually.

What was more concerning to the pilot was that everyone on the ship was looking at him a little differently. Could the whole ship know about the dreams that still occasionally tormented him? Had he done something remarkably stupid during his first awakening? He could not dare let himself think that in his confusion that he might have betrayed his greatest secret.

"Oh, you're early." The Doctor said the moment they walked in the door. He looked none to happy to see them, busy with some sort of experiment that Harry hoped had nothing to do with Neelix's latest supplies. Tom usually could have told him, but of course Tom had been rather out of the loop.

"We can leave. I don't need another check up, anyway." Tom said, turning around. Harry grabbed his arm, though both Tom's height and strength would never allow him to win a wrestling match. However, the doctor made that point moot.

"If you plan on going back on duty you'll get on that bio bed and let me do one last scan. If not I'll tell Commander Chakotay you need to wait another week, instead of receiving light duty tomorrow." The EMH threatened.

Harry could have sworn Tom muttered something about shooting the holo-emitters out, but the pilot turned and went to the bed as ordered. The Ops Ensign darted out of the room before laughter overcame him, as he pictured Tom's face when he learned that he had already followed through on his threat. Inside Tom Paris was still grumbling about unneeded examinations and the EMH had a rather familiar desire to sedate him. He informed the pilot of his frustrations. Paris hesitated a second longer than he might have prior to his injury, but then he smirked. "Computer if the EMH orders a sedative in the next ten minutes deactivate him." He said.

As the doctor protested this overriding of his freedom, he suddenly felt a warm happiness. He had missed the sarcastic wit of Tom Paris, had hated to see fear fill a countenance that usually showed excitement or delight. By the time, Harry Kim returned from his private laugh he found the Doctor and Tom exchanging insults, and only the young ensign could have guessed they were both doing it fondly.

**··············**

"Light Duty." The Doctor informed Chakotay. "And the Captain may now question him. As far as we can tell, his memories and his personality have returned to normal. For my part I am rather pleased to be once more arguing with him."

"I am sure the crew all feel the same way. Even Neelix has said that he was so glad to hear Tom complaining about his food." Chakotay smiled. After the last two weeks, the crew was growing calmer. There had been a level of tension in the air as they had all discovered that without Paris, there was no one to break tense silences with a stupid remark, and Chakotay had made a few other discoveries on just how Tom Paris helped Voyager's crew stay sane. The knowledge that the injuries had been, in part, caused by part of the crew themselves, had also lent itself to the taut atmosphere.

With his customer breezy ways Tom Paris had soothed the alarm by promptly offending several crewmembers in the Mess Hall, prompting rumors that he had hit on Crewman Dalby's latest date, and scaring a few innocent crewmembers half to death by creating a new holo vid of a paranormal adventure. Despite the continual uproar that followed Paris on his mischievous way the ship's rumor mill had leapt to life, the crew gladly bet on what Tom would do next and most decided that if a near death experience could not mature Tom Paris he was going to have to be the village clown.

Chakotay decided to deliver the good news to the pilot himself. Five minutes after letting the captain know and receiving further messages to pass on he found himself in front of Tom Paris quarters. In two years, he had never been here and when Tom let him in, he was astonished by the order of the pilot's quarters. He would have expected Tom's quarters to be careless. Instead, they were neat, though the odd souvenirs were a reminder of the bizarre nature of their owner.

"Commander?" Paris asked after inviting him in. "Is something wrong?"

Chakotay, who prided himself on being able to read men's characters, could imagine Paris laughing at him inside, getting a kick out of the dislike he knew Chakotay bore, had borne, for him. The pilot stood at ease, though there was a glint in his eyes that spoke of his desire to get his superior officer out of his quarters as soon as he could politely do so. On the other hand, perhaps as soon as he could drive Chakotay to annoyance.

His half-formed smirk was already on his face. Chakotay was already perfectly aware that Paris used that smirk with the intention of appearing unaffected by the annoyance of others, which only added to their own frustrations. This time Chakotay felt a sudden pang of guilt as he wondered where and how the pilot had perfected the look on superior calm. He was the ship's unofficial counselor, but Paris would never have come to him with any problems, and from what the man's personal logs had shown, he had no one to seek out.

_Count to ten. _Chakotay thought when Paris started a staring contest and refused to ask his business. But the Commander soon chose to hand Tom the PADD instead. "You've been cleared for light duty, Lt." He said quietly. _Paris is only playing with me. I don't have to let it annoy me. _

"Oh." Paris looked at the PADD. He stared at it as if expecting something more than his duty roster. He raised his cool blue eyes to Chakotay's face with an ironic eyebrow. "Is that all?"

"The Captain also has ordered a Senior Staff meeting for tomorrow at 0800. Will you be up to both the meeting and the duty shift?"

"I've been able to fly for days now. It's the Doc whose been keeping me off duty. I thought if I annoyed him enough he'd be eager to get me out of there, but until today he wouldn't even let me be in my quarters alone. I know I'm in no danger of a relapse. I can read the scans well enough for that." Perhaps there was a question in the amused pilot's words. Chakotay decided to ignore any possible queries.

"It was a severe injury, Paris." He said firmly.

"I was physically fine even before I got my memories back." Tom scoffed. He was searching for some explanation. "Just what did I do that is making the doctor and everyone so nervous to have me back at the Helm? Did I cause the accident that landed me in Sick Bay?"

"No. You just nearly died twice." Chakotay answered. "That can be a traumatic event for anyone."

"I would think we're all used to it out here."

And the words, you should be, were on the tip of Chakotay's tongue. He caught them before they slipped out with his annoyance. It should have been his duty to keep Paris from as many dangerous missions as the man went on, but it was hard to get crewmembers with family back home to want to risk their lives. Paris had chosen the risks, time after time.

"I will see you tomorrow, Lt." Chakotay ignored the curious look he received when he did not respond to Tom's statement with a further explanation. He winced when he saw a cold look fall into place and he wondered if Tom could understand the choices made for Voyager's safety.

**··············**

It would have taken duller wits than Tom Paris to miss the apprehension of the Senior Staff. Harry and B'lanna chattered eagerly about gossip, but never broached personal matters. Kes was an angel as always, but she also seemed more touched by Tom's emotions than normal, which meant she had empathized deeper with him. Neelix was acting as if Tom was a fragile wreck. The Captain had only visited him in Sick Bay once, and had been so grave that Tom had suspected he was in trouble, but nothing ever came of it. Now here was Chakotay, actually coming to Tom's quarters, when all he had to do was send the duty roster to Tom's personal console.

Tom was eminently thankful for the Doctor's quick return from concern and perhaps pity to sarcasm and digs. At least one of them could realize he was not going to be a different man from a bump on the head. If indeed, that is what had caused their changes. Tom Paris was a good deal more astute than he acted. He had learned years ago that people underestimated him because of his humor, and did so even more because of his reputation.

He went to his personal console, a deep pit inside his stomach. He knew before he turned it on, what he would find. It was the only explanation for the curious changes in the crew, especially Chakotay. Tom had been nearly killed many times and the Commander had never shown any particular concern. This meant somehow they knew, or suspected that Tom's entire reputation was a sham, a trick played on the entire Federation and Starfleet.

A knot grew in his chest when he saw who had accessed the log last.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter thirteen**

**T**he staff room was once more staffed correctly. Janeway could have indulged in a happy smile, had the confession they needed to make not weighed on her. Tom was laughing with Harry, so oblivious to the violation. Even Tuvok's calm face had morphed into a serene face as he took his seat. She had not realized how important Tom's stupidity could be to the morale of her crew.

Even now, Chakotay was counting to ten, B'lanna looked ready to laugh or hit the pilot and Harry was grinning from ear to ear. All Tom had done was comment on the amount of time since he was last at a Staff Meeting. Janeway idly wondered if she could use his annoying personality in some way.

"Good Morning everyone." She said. And the good mood shattered. Tom grew stiff and silent, fixing accusing eyes on her and everyone else sensed his anger. She took a deep breath. "Tom -"

He did not interrupt her, but the moment she found she could not go on he spoke. "Captain, do you honestly think that with the kind of sensitive information that was in my logs that I wouldn't leave someway of recording any access?" He said and they saw the man who had taken them hostage. "Don't you know that three levels of encryption on a personal log usually indicate secrets best not shared with the world?"

"You had made us believe there was a threat to the ship and you weren't able to explain it any further." Janeway snapped back at him.

"Did my logs help you at all?"

"Not in determining if there was truth to the threat."

His eyes, so hard and mirthless, bore into her. "You had no right to touch those logs."

"Where the safety of this ship and this crew are considered, I have every right." Janeway answered.

Paris almost retorted. His mouth was open, he was leaning aggressively forward. But before he allowed himself to speak he snapped upright, shut his mouth and gave her a derisive smile. "Well I supposed nothing can be done about it now. What in the world did I say to make you think the ship was in danger?"

"You took myself, Commander Chakotay, Commander Tuvok, Lt Ayala and Kes hostage in Sick Bay, shot out the holo emitters to get rid of the doctor, cut us completely off from the rest of the ship, hacked into the Ship's database and accused us of having a Shadow Agent on board, trying to kill you." Janeway said. Paris's reaction was all for which Harry could have hoped. He looked stunned, flinching only slightly when the name of his enemies was given.

"I did?" He looked suspiciously at them.

"Yes Mr Paris. If you hadn't been ill and needed me to get further information I may not have subdued you." Tuvok said calmly.

Tom Paris actually sat back and was silent for several minutes as he assimilated this knowledge. Suddenly an amused smile broke out on his face. "Well I supposed you did have some cause to be suspicions. But how in the world did you know that Shadow Agents are a real threat?"

Whether he had forgiven them or if he was putting his anger off until a later time Janeway could not guess. She looked at Tuvok, who calmly explained how he had known. Tom nodded thoughtfully. Apparently, the explanation leading back to Ambassador Spock made sense to him. He was musing quietly to himself, unaware that they were all holding their breath, wanting him to share the missing pieces.

"How do you know about the Order of Enlightenment and their Shadow Agents, Mr, Paris? This information is highly classified." Tuvok asked.

Enigmatic Tom Paris looked up at them and gave them all a wicked smile. "Do you think because you know some of the truth you should know it all?" He asked in a sweet tone.

B'lanna Torres hissed angrily, glaring when he turned his smile on her. Oh, he was enjoying this. It was taking all of B'lanna's strength to keep from yelling at him. Tom leaned back further enjoying the unwavering attention on him, ready to tease and annoy.

Janeway let him have his moment. It was a relief to find that the man who had concealed these secrets was the same man who purposed annoyed Chakotay, who would bait Tuvok simply to get him to say the obvious, who would spin around from the Helm to tell them all some anecdote. Whatever dark secrets were hidden by Tom's dark reputation the man himself was still the same. It was enough to make one think.

"Tom, we cannot make you tell us, but I trust that if there is an Agent on board you will alert us?"

"It was Commander Cavit, and I believe Michael Jonas may have also been one." Tom said simply. "If there is another Agent on board they are lying low."

"Alright. It appears you are probably are resident expert in the Shadow Agents and their methods, so-"

Tom flinched and she paused. "Perhaps it would be easier for you to tell us." She said gently when she saw how grave he had become.

"You are asking for a level of trust I don't think I can give." Tom said and his eyes, cold and distant, landed on Chakotay. "The only way to tell you how I know about the Shadows, and why they want to kill me, is to tell you a truth that there is no longer record of."

To answer immediately would have closed him off. They all needed to consider the implications. He had not trusted them enough over the past two years to share the danger he had been in from the crew. He had survived on his own, always friendly, but always aloof and none had realized just how separate he was.

It was a testimony to the close-knit family they were becoming that every single person in the Senior Staff room and the EMH, did not demand his trust. Further proof that the lines between Starfleet and Maquis had dropped away came from Harry and B'lanna as they looked at each other and then quietly began to turn to their reports. Tuvok also turned to his PADD. Chakotay looked thoughtful and the choice was left in Janeway's hand.

"Alright Tom." She said quietly.

He did not speak at all as the ship's needs, rosters and problems were discussed in full detail, everyone doing their best to set aside their hungry desire to know the truth. It was doubtful if Tom was even listening to the meeting, but for once no one wanted to scold him for his inattention.

**··············**

Seven years prior, Tom Paris had trusted his family. His father had turned his back on him, his mother had cried when he tried to explain, his sisters had wanted him to see a counselor. No one had believed him. They had betrayed his trust. He had not seen them for five years, until he had landed in a Federation prison. His sisters had pleaded for him to explain, his mother had tried to pretend her heart was not broken and his father… the Admiral had decreed he no longer had a son. They did not know the truth. They would not believe the truth.

How could he possibly tell the truth to Voyager? He could imagine their responses. The weary disappointment from Janeway, the disgust from Chakotay, the disapproving looks from the Doctor and Tuvok, the pitying looks from Neelix and Kes, Harry's uncertainty and B'lanna's scorn. There was enough for him to deal with from the crew at times and he knew he was not as strong as he tried to act. He knew that if he offered them a sign of trust that would put him in their power and they could tear him apart with words and deeds.

It would be hard for them not believe him now that they had witnessed his nightmares and he was not sure if pity would not be harder to bear than cold shoulders. He rubbed his hands together and looked about the room. There were times when he had wanted to jump ship to avoid these people. But Harry's unconditional friendship and Janeway's, however misguided, attempts to give him a second chance had allowed him to stay sane. He and Chakotay had even come to a working relationship, while B'lanna had become a friend.

He would have died for them if needed. He would have thrown his life and what little reputation he had left to the dogs if it meant they could get home, where they all belonged. This was enough.

Janeway was wrapping up the meeting when Tom sat up.

"Do you really want to know?" He asked.

"Yes, but you are not require to tell us anything. We will accept your need for silence." She said.

"I'll tell you, but it can't go any farther." He said roughly.

She nodded and he had to stop and gather his thoughts. Even Tuvok was allowing interest to cross his face and none of them were looking impatient, giving him the time he needed. This was hard. He already felt a familiar fear.

"It all started because I caught the Terran flu from one of my generous nephews." Tom began. His nervous fidgeting eased when he saw Harry and B'lanna grin appreciatively. "My best friend, Landon Sulu and I had recently reported for our first duty posting after the Academy, Caldik Prime. We were part of a four-man squad of runners who patrolled the Caldik system. Besides Landon, and myself there was a Bajoran name Pol Sari, whom Landon immediately fell in love with, and a Betazoid named Corin Loio. I was the squad leader, so when I ended up in quarantine with influenza my squad received an impromptu leave about six months after our posting.

"Caldik Prime is a rather boring place, so they flew out to Caldik Second. While they were enjoying the local sights in the Capitol City, they found a Betazoid woman being drugged and about to be dropped into a river with some weights. My intrepid friends intervened and saved the life of Ianna Morin, who was on Caldik Second at the orders of Governor Corvik of the Independent systems.

"Corvik had worked with both Admiral Lirik and Ambassador Spock prior to determining that his disagreement with the Federations laws could not be resolved. He had learned of the Shadow Agents. He himself had discovered that the Order of Enlightenment was a driving force behind the increasingly strict application of the 'Prime Directive'. Ianna had been rooting out a Shadow Agent in the Caldik government." Tom paused in his story to look around the room. His audience was raptly focused on him.

"That was their introduction to the Shadow Agents. The Agents mistook their intervention for actual knowledge of the Order and two weeks later, on our first patrol after my recovery, they attacked us. Our fancy flying saved our lives, but when we attempted to make a report of the incident our superior, Captain Liri denied it ever happened. Every single shred of evidence disappeared; from the records of our hails to the actual runners we had been flying.

"It happened a second time the next week. This time Sari made a duplicate recording of our entire flight. Yet once again, every piece of evidence disappeared. We hadn't connected it to my friends' bravery on Caldik Second, all we knew was that our superior officer was refusing to accept our reports and the danger we were in. By this time, we also determined that our squad was the only one this was happening too. There were eight squads on Caldik at the time and the only one being attacked was ours, which meant that someone was deliberately coming after us!

"When we were attacked a third time two weeks later we should have been killed. They had finally sent three huge ships after us and we couldn't escape. Just when we realized we couldn't escape the Independent Defense showed up, with Corvik himself on board. They chased our attackers off and explained why we were being attacked.

"We had only a two minute window in which to talk with Corvik before we became visible to the planet's sensors. When we realized that the Shadow Agents would not give up until my squad was dead, I told Corvik to transport them aboard his ship. I then took control of the entire squad by remote piloting and flew the runners in a limping pattern back to Prime, where I then skimmed the atmosphere with shields down so that my friends' runners exploded, then crashed my own. I may have underestimated the speed I was going." Paris grinned almost sheepishly. Since all had at one time or another, even if only clandestinely, read the report, they were aware that his look was because his injuries had been severe.

"So it was meant to look like an accident or an attack." Janeway inquired.

"Yes. By the time I was recovered enough to give a report it had been decided that there was a possible malfunction in the navigation, so I agreed with that and hoped that was the end of the matter. Unfortunately, the very day I returned to duty Captain Liri called me into his office and questioned me for three hours on the actual events. I stuck with the official story, doubting that I could give the truth to my superior officer." Tom scowled. "There was no evidence left. It was my word and conjecture that would indicate what had happened. I thought I could get away with it.

"I started receive threats, hints that the truth was known or suspected, although my ruse and my very real grief at the loss of my friends was too good for them to come after me without proof that I had tricked the Agents. Perhaps I could have bluffed my way out of the threats, but I had no one to turn to. Captain Liri could only be trusted to deny and twist anything I said. I was afraid, but I didn't have anyone to trust. So I decided to throw a wrench in the works and try to disappear. I confessed that I had lied and it was my fault." He paused and snorted at his naiveté. "I didn't think that story through very well.

"I had hoped to make my father understand why I did what I did, but I wasn't even allowed to come home after my court martial. Having overestimated my ability to disappear I found my self on Katirk, jobless, moneyless and possibly a little drunk. Although I had considered trying to reach the Independent Systems to ask for help, I had decided to strike out on my own. The Shadow Agents found me there." Here the pilot paused again, his face growing white with bitter memories, taut lines around his eyes and mouth speaking of events he wished away.

"I didn't even know who they worked for. I didn't even know what their purpose was. All I knew was that they had tried to kill my friends. And through my own efforts to conceal what I had to done to save their lives, I had isolated myself from everyone else.

"They took me to some ship and I was there for four weeks. They wanted to know the truth, they wanted me to tell them where my friends were and they would use any method to get that information. The nightmares I have are from that time and because one method they used involved keeping me just conscious inside a pod while they ran hallucinogens and poisons through me I became claustrophobic. The only reason I didn't tell them the truth is because I didn't know where Corvik had taken my friends, and I thought confessing all I knew would mean I was suffering for nothing.

"No one missed me. In fact, it was by chance that one of Corvik's spies learned I was even being 'interrogated'. Ianna, Corin and an Elite Force company took the ship, found me and got me to the Independent system. This is hearsay on my part, since one day I passed out in the," shuddering "hole they had packed me into, and when I woke up I was on the Prime Planet, in Corvik's own house and under Ianna's care. Ianna is a doctor, and was on her way to becoming the Secretary of Health for the government.

"When I was recovered I became a sort of jack of all trades for Corvik. Landon, Sari and Corin had been integrated into the Independent population with new names, but I did not have that luxury. I've always wanted to fly, but I couldn't since I had even given that reputation up. Ianna decreed that I must have some action, and suddenly I was visiting planets, playing a drunken loser, and incidentally always gathering news about the latest political upheavals. Although the Shadow Agents still suspected me, I was never part of the actual removal of the Agent I had drawn out. People never consider someone like me to be a threat. I was always the guy drowning his sorrows at the bar, not listening to the secret conversations that take place in those seedy places. The brig of a ship and a jail cell are also good places to learn information when you seem to be recovering from a binge by serenading the crew. People talked if I was around, thinking I didn't and couldn't hear.

"For a long time it looked like the Order had decreed I was not a threat and that my rescue was incidental. The Order didn't and I pray, still doesn't know that Corvik is the mastermind behind the counter movement. But when Corvik grew concerned that Chakotay was an Agent, because of how many of Starfleet followed him to the Maquis and just how much influence he had in their rebellion, I was the obvious choice to go under cover, as amid my travels I had managed to regain some of my reputation as a pilot. Merchants are desperate for pilots on in the edges of the Federation and I could always earn a ride from planet to planet by manning the helm of a transport. My skill was undoubted in those backwater parts by the time I landed in the DMZ with the intention of being noticed by the Maquis.

"I performed beautifully, and I think that night that Chakotay escorted me from jail to his ship was the first night I managed to make him have to count before he could talk to me in anything like a civil voice. Unfortunately, although I had immediate doubts that Chakotay was an Agent, someone else had their doubts about me. I still do not know who was the Agent, although my greatest suspicion and the only person I had the slightest evidence against, was Michael Jonas. On my first away mission Starfleet was waiting for me, and you know the rest. I landed in Auckland for five years and I could not contact Corvik for help without risking sharing too much. Although Corvik did find out and sent Ianna to check up on me. They were working on my release when someone decided I was in the way and sent me here to Voyager, for the only purpose of having Cavit murder me."

"You really are a secret agent." Harry blurted after a few seconds of silence. They all laughed and suddenly they were all normal. They were far removed from any cloak and dagger fighting of Shadowy agents. Except for the guilty look from Chakotay, who had always resented the man he had believed Tom to be, they did not look at Paris any differently. Perhaps there was a more respect in Janeway's voice and perhaps there was pride in Harry and B'lanna, but it was not any different from before. Tom's friends were still his friends and his Captain was still his Captain.

If he wondered what would happen if his conscious ever crossed her principles he did not worry about it. He was far too used to the consequences of doing what he knew to be right in the face of everyone else's opinion to care if he had to face it again.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter fourteen**

**C**rewman Paul Sontano was having a very bad day. It had started with a summons to the Security office where he, and several other crewmembers, had all been punished for unwarranted (at least at the time it happened) attacks on Lt Paris. Apparently, Paris's attacks had been discovered. Since Paris had never tattled before, Sontano grudgingly had to admit it was likely that Paris had only spoken of it because of his amnesia.

But Sontano's day did not improve with his dismissal from security. Bereft of half his replicator rations he reported to Ops only to have his Superior, Ensign Kim, assign him to a complete inspection and repair of Voyager's waste system.

Then while he was half in and out of the waste lines Lt B'lanna Torres marched in, dragged him away from his work and shoved him against the wall. "If you ever touch Paris again, I'll hunt you down the PetaQ you are." She informed him with a feral growl, gave him a meaningful shove against the wall and then left him to wonder if his legs would ever stop shaking.

By the time they had stopped shaking and he returned to his work Crewman Dalby came flying by, face white with fear. "Watch out for Ayala!" He told Sontano, but before he explained more he was racing down the hall again.

Sontano would have willingly pulled the panel onto the wall after himself and work in the cramped space with the waste lines if it had been possible. He had just begun to take apart the pipes to replace a filter when Lt Ayala walked in. The Operations Crewman leapt out of the wall and came to attention before he could be unceremoniously hauled out of the crawl hole.

"Paris doesn't deserve to be bullied, Sontano. Let the past lie where it is and see him for what he is today." The big security officer said in a calm voice. Just when Sontano thought he was going to get off lightly the Lt leaned forward. "I will hear about it if you touch him again and I will come after you myself."

"Yes, s-sir." Sontano stammered.

"Good." Ayala gave him a long hard glance. When he left Sontano sank to the floor and was suddenly grateful that another punishment for his past and recent activities against Voyager's pilots had been a reassigning to Gamma Shift. Paris worked Alpha shift most days and it would be likely that Sontano would rarely see him. He was suddenly terrified that if the Senior Staff or Ayala caught him even looking at Paris they would think he had done something.

When had the pilot become such a favorite on Voyager?

**··············**

"I know how to fly." Tom groused at Chakotay. "Lay off Papa Bear."

From her engineering station, B'lanna watched her mentor close his eyes and begin to count to ten. Everyone on the bridge knew that Tom was intentionally baiting the First Officer because he felt uncomfortable with Chakotay's remorse. Not everyone on the bridge was aware of the full reasons behind that remorse, but there were enough rumors, some not to far from the truth, that most of Voyager was now trying to piece together the mystery of Tom's past.

Safe in the knowledge that his revelations had not changed the senior staff's opinion towards him, excluding Chakotay of course, Paris was having far too much fun baiting the rest of the crew with tantalizing (and absurd) hints. B'lanna's favorite story was that Tom had made Tal Celes believe he was actually a Betazoid investigator. She could picture the flighty astrometrics officer staring wide-eyed at the pilot as he openly smirked at her gullibility.

Paris was already onto the next maneuver before Chakotay felt he could speak without ripping into the pilot. The First Officer turned to Harry and asked for a report.

When the Alpha shift was over B'lanna and Harry were able to indulge in a good laugh as they walked with Tom to the Mess Hall for dinner. Paris blinked at them with a look of outraged sensibility, but his eyes twinkled. "Tom, you are going to end up on report for insubordination." Harry said when they were satisfied with the release of pent up amusement.

"The sooner he puts me on report the sooner he'll be fine. He thinks he should have been able to tell by looking at me that I wasn't a real drunken lout. If he can let himself get mad at me he'll realize I'm still the same person who plans to annoy him the next seventy years." Tom grinned.

"Well at least you're good at something." Harry said.

"You wound me! Didn't I have the best moves on the dance floor last night? Come on B'lanna, I'm sure all the women were swooning over me, tell Harry all about it." Paris turned his goading from one friend to the next.

"You're right Tom. You were the best dancer last night. I think Sue never took her eyes off you. Although you did have a very skillful partner." B'lanna answered in a bit more than friendly voice.

Tom's eyes widened, his grin spread and suddenly Harry found himself maneuvered out of the way as the pilot fell into tandem with B'lanna and they began to discuss each other's merits at dancing. To the Ops officers astonishment B'lanna began to flirt, playful and shallow though it was. The abandoned Ensign wondered if she had now hit her head and forgotten that she swore never to fall to Tom's dubious charms. Then he recalled the scene in the Sick Bay, when Paris had still found her pretty, despite his lost memories. Apparently, B'lanna had decided to learn the playful language Tom loved.

_I need to start a betting pool on these two. _Harry thought. _No one else would believe they actually like each other. I bet I could earn a neat packet of rations._ His mother would have been shocked by the destruction of her innocent child's virtues. Cadet Kim would _never _have used his friends to earn ill-gotten gains.


	15. Chapter 15

**Epilogue**

**A**dmiral Own Paris came after the service was over, watched every other family member leave the park grounds that now held the Voyager memorial. Only when he believed they were all gone did he walk to that memorial and stand staring at it, seeing his son's untitled name settled in the last row, as if it had been an afterthought. That was how Tom had been thought of for seven years now, the after thought, the one person to be avoided, if possible, of the Paris family. The Admiral wondered, not for the last time, where things had gone wrong.

His wife was currently living out of their home. They were not divorced. Julie had simply said she needed time away and she had made a promise to come back, which was the only hope Owen now had to hold on too. Before Voyager's disappearance there had been hope that Tom could change his life around.

The day, now two years ago, Admiral Burns had shown up to let the Paris's know about Voyager's lost had shattered that hope. They had not even known that Janeway had been ordered to take Tom along as an observer. He was not supposed to be on that doomed ship! Burns also had told Paris that there was a hearing in the works, now put on hold due to Tom's disappearance, which may have contrived his early release from prison. Hope lost. For good this time.

Thomas E. Paris. The name stared accusingly back at the name's sire. And for the hundredth time since he had learned that there were no more chances left for Tom, or for Owen, the Admiral wished he could cry like his wife did, even two years after their loss. Broken by losing his son, by losing the last vestiges of respect from his daughters and separated from his heart broken wife, he still could not shed tears. He had to keep strong and never show weakness.

Tom had mockingly referred to his father as the only "Vulcan without pointed ears". This moniker had been bestowed in a fit of teenage angst. It had been used numerous times afterwards. Owen wished he could hear Tom spit the words once more.

"Admiral Paris." A calm and collected voice interrupted his reverie. The tall Starfleet Admiral had to blink to reorient himself to the now. He turned and found a Vulcan couple waiting for him to collect himself just a few feet away. The early afternoon son gleamed off their deeply bronzed skin. They were in civilian clothes. He did not think that they belonged to either of the two Vulcans lost with Voyager. The faces of the other families were etched into his memory.

When the man saw that the Admiral had given them his attention he stepped forward and held out his hand. "I am Governor Corvik; this is my wife, M'tel." He introduced. "We came to pay our respects to your son." They were here for Tom.

Then the name sunk in. Despite its contrary views on the Prime Directive, the Independent System was held in high respect. Corvik was allowed his eccentricities, since he had built a thriving and peaceful government. How had Tom even met such a man?

"Thank you. I was unaware that Tom knew anyone from the Independents." The Admiral said quietly.

"Tom lived with us for a year." M'tel answered. "Prior to his arrest he came to visit us every six months."

Owen had not seen his son since Caldik Prime. He cautiously studied the respected Governor. "I see." He said, far too stiff for his own liking. It was his own fault that Tom had fled to the outer planet systems rather than face the judgment of home. "How did you meet?"

"Tom was in need after helping out some friends of his. Because of the ill repute he was held in at the time, I took him into my own home to protect him. He became a welcome member of the household, even if he did make my children wonder at our suppression of emotion." The Vulcan Governor answered.

"May I ask why, in the face of his reputation, that you would welcome him to your home?" The Admiral asked.

"I will be honored to tell you. It is the reason I intruded in your thoughts." Corvik answered. "Perhaps we should sit."

They found the nearest bench and sat down. Corvik fixed dark eyes on Owen. "Is a man who would live with dishonor to do an honorable thing to be respected more than a man who would refuse the stigma of apparent dishonor even to save lives?"

The Admiral considered the question. Then he slowly nodded. "Yes."

"Then your son was a great man. He wished to tell you himself, but was unable to. I had desired to share this with you last year, but was unable to come at that time. Tom was a man worth knowing. When I first knew him I was unsettled by his ill-timed humor, and his zealous desire to enjoy what life had, even in the face of numerous betrayals. I came to respect him. He taught me that Vulcan logic is not superior to Terran wit. Perhaps I cannot allow myself the freedom of emotions that he would but he did show me that even Logic can be taken too far."

**··············**

Admiral Own Paris did not return to his empty home after a long afternoon learning about the merits of his son. He tracked down his wife, caught her at the end of her work shift in the public library, and dragged her to a private dining hall.

They spoke for long hours. They cried together. They laughed over once forgotten memories of their son as a rambunctious child. When the dining hall closed, they went home together.

Seventy thousand light years away Tom Paris left B'lanna Torres at her door, wondering if her sudden foray into the world of flirting was a door opening to let him in to her heart. He was suddenly reminded of his parents' beloved story of their long courtship. The only love Tom had never doubted was that of his parents for each other. Perhaps, with slow steps, he might find that with the gorgeous Chief Engineer.


End file.
